


Ever Since New York [H.S]

by GirlAlmightyxx0710



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 36,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlAlmightyxx0710/pseuds/GirlAlmightyxx0710
Summary: Harry is an established pub musician and busker from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire. Working in pubs you meet some interesting people, and hear some pretty wild stories, but otherwise are quite a fly on the wall; a people watcher, mostly.Mostly. That all changes when Harry finds himself involved in one particular couple's wild story a little too much.





	1. Sign Of The Times

I could feel the beat of my heart quickening in my chest as the knocking sound came from 3 metres away right outside the front door. Knowing that someone could actually be out at this time was frightening. Why would anyone be at my doorstep at 1:30am? It wasn't Patrick. I knew that for a fact. My last text from Patrick came in at 12:51am stating that he was hungover and tired. He was always like this. I'd receive a message from him saying that he's been drinking and that he was tired, and right after he always fell asleep. I don't even know how he made it home safely in his drunken state, but apparently he did. A million thoughts played over my mind, but it was this one that really got to me. 

Only one person would be on my doorstep at this time of night. The police. Answering the door to hear those horrible words that Patrick hadn't made it was something that I feared more than anything. But I had to. I had to force myself to push the pause button on the TV remote, freezing 'Clueless', which had been playing just recently. It took me a few moments to regain myself as I stumbled off the black leather sofa I had spent my night laying on. My legs felt like jelly with each step towards the door. As I took my lower lip between my teeth, I reached out with one hand to grab a hold of the handle. I was dreading the heartbreaking news more than anything, but knew that it was now or never; I couldn't keep them out in the cold all night. Closing my eyes as I slowly pulled open the door, the cold air to brush up against me, and I was suddenly more thankful for the thick pyjamas I had on. I waited for the police officer's voice, but it never came. Why didn't it come? My eyes slowly opening, I blinked quickly a couple of times to ensure that what I was seeing was real. I could have sworn the police were the culprit behind the knock at the door, but they weren't. I can't even tell you how happy I was to know that the police weren't standing there when I pulled open the door. I felt my heartbeat slowly return back to normal as I let out a soft sigh of relief. In this moment I was happy. I was so utterly happy. In a month's time I would be marrying Patrick; everything was good.

I felt calmer knowing that no one was at the door and that my mind was simply playing tricks on me, so I stepped back and was about to slam the door shut, until my big brown eyes landed on the small envelope. In effortless black writing was the word; "Ivyanna." What was this and why was it here? Nobody ever calls me that. I bent down to pick up the envelope before I let the door shut behind me. 

I leant back against the wall and turned the envelope over in my hand, anxious to know what was inside. The envelope contained a single small piece of paper that had been folded over several times. Should I be reading this? Was this even mine to read? Why hadn't I thrown it out already? About a million and one questions roamed my mind. Why was I even worrying? It was so silly anyway. Nothing important. I used the pads of my thumbs to force open the folded bits, glancing my eyes down at the words to read over what was written in messy handwriting: "DON'T MARRY HIM!"

I don't know how long I spent out on the porch, but by the time I came back to reality, my hands and face had gone numb from the cold, and my mind had gone blank. As I let myself back inside, I noticed that the handwriting on the envelope was different to that on the note, and neither style was one I recognised. This made me uncomfortable, because it meant that the note wasn't left by anyone I knew. I have no family, and Patrick only has his mother. Neither of us had many friends, either. I looked back at the envelope, and my stomach lurched as I ran my thumb over the delicate script. Ivyanna. Nobody had called me that in almost two decades. Not one person in my life at this point knew my name wasn't just 'Ivy', as I introduced myself; not even Patrick. It's not a common name, either, so it's not as if this was left here for someone else by mistake. Whoever left this for me is a complete stranger who knows where I live, and somehow they know about the wedding and a part of my life I'd tried very hard up to now to erase any evidence of.

I was suddenly overcome with an intense feeling that I was being watched. My mouth dried, my breathing quickened again, and the air in the living room was almost electrified. I stumbled into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. When I'd composed myself enough, I made a cup of tea and glanced at the clock. 2:15am. None of this made any sense. I wondered if I should actually call the police, and then decided against it. So what do I do? I couldn't go anywhere – no one I knew was awake, and even if they had been, none of them had living arrangements which would have allowed for me to stay with them in any capacity, much less on almost no notice.

As I finished my tea, my mind wandered and I found myself reminiscing over when I'd met Patrick. I was part of an Exchange program in college, and so I spent eighteen months studying in America. He was working as a security guard for a nightclub I frequented when I could afford to focus a little less on my studies, and one night in the beginning of my Exchange, I had my drink spiked whilst I was out. Patrick called an ambulance, and spent the whole night waiting at the hospital with me. They kept me in overnight, and he insisted on being the one to pick me up the next morning. He showed up with my favourite flowers and took me out for coffee and breakfast. We'd been inseparable ever since, and he surprised me the Christmas I'd come home by showing up on my doorstep. That had been three years ago now, and here we were, on the verge of married life.

As I lay in my oversized king framed bed, I stared straight up at the roof. It was beyond the early hours of the morning and I needed to sleep but I couldn't. I don't even know how much time had passed before I turned my head to the side, glancing at the alarm clock on my bedside table. 4:27am. Of course it was just my luck that I had to be up in less than two hours. I tried to convince myself that this note was a whole misunderstanding and that it was just some ridiculous person's idea of a joke. But if that truly were the case why was I still awake worrying about it? I tried my best to shrug it off; telling myself that the note didn't mean much, besides the fact that it contained my name. It's not like Patrick was cheating on me and I knew that for a fact. So whoever had left it behind was only out to worry me for no reason. With no family and very few friends, I narrowed it down to one person. The only person capable of being behind this for a logical reasoning. The only person who was immature enough to do something like this was Jessica. Jessica Smith. Over a month ago she reached out to Patrick trying to flirt with him, this came as no surprise when I found out, she'd been doing this ever since Patrick and I got together. She couldn't stand that I dated the captain of the football team back in High School, while she never had the chance. It's not like she envied me or anything because she didn't, she enjoyed sabotaging my chances of happiness far too much. As I turned my head so that my eyes were concentrating on the pale white ceiling, my mind wandered and I found myself reminiscing over my last dreadful senior year experience with Jess.

I'd been pulled from an assessment period by the school counsellor, who, despite my many protests, and those of my peers; insisted I join him in his office. He did not speak to me as we walked, and when we arrived at his office, he opened the door to reveal the school chaplain and someone I did not recognise, who were quietly discussing something. Mr Andrews, the counsellor, cleared his throat awkwardly, and his colleagues fell into silence.

'Miss Edwards,' the chaplain, who insisted everyone refer to him as Scott, began. 'Why don't you take a seat?' I glanced around the room, but every available chair was occupied. The woman I didn't recognise got to her feet. I objected, but was cut off by Mr Andrews.

'You really ought to be seated for this, Miss Edwards,' he insisted. 'Unfortunately, I'm afraid we do not have pleasant business to attend to.' My teeth sank into my lower lip as I let myself drop into the now empty chair. 'I assume you've noticed the absence of Miss Smith from your classes today?' Mr Andrews asked. I nodded. 'Well dear,' he continued; 'it's because, ahhh...' He drifted off and was no longer making eye contact with me. 'Shall I put on a pot of tea?' He wondered, and; not waiting for an answer, he proceeded to busy himself with the kettle across the room, which was now full of a tense, awkward silence.

'Unfortunately, Miss Smith was in a car accident during the early hours of Sunday morning,' Scott continued. I remember asking if they were individually pulling the grade from class to tell us this, and wondered why, given we were in an exam period, and surely this could wait. 'Miss Edwards,' Scott cleared his throat. 'This is Constable Parker, she's from the local Police Department.'

I looked over to the woman who I hadn't recognised as we came in. She breathed deeply, shook her head slightly, and came closer to me. 'Miss Smith wasn't the only one in the accident.' Receiving no response from me, Constable Parker continued. 'Unfortunately, Miss Smith's accident involved another car.' At this point, there was a tap on my shoulder. Mr Andrews handed me a cup of tea, and looked towards the Constable, still not meeting my eyes. At this point I realised no one in the room was making eye contact with me. I sipped carefully from my tea, and noticed Mr Andrews had not offered a cup to anyone else. I thought this was strange, seeing as he wasn't the type to be so impolite. Constable Parker exhaled slowly. 'The other car in the accident,' she began, as I watched something I took to be pain flicker quickly across her face. 'It belonged to your parents, love.' My heart had sunk, and I remember suddenly being overcome with panic. I think I even dropped Mr Andrews' mug. I couldn't speak, but I didn't have to, the constable answered the only question I had. 'They didn't make it.'


	2. Understand I'm Talking To The Walls

The weekend had passed, and, as usual, I had minimal contact with Patrick because he spent most of it hungover and asleep. I was currently at work, eating at my desk and working through my lunch break the same as I did most days. Being part of a lawyer's administrative team, there was always too much work to do, and I was apparently the only one who felt the need to at least try to be on top of it. That said, most of the people I worked with got their jobs because they're connected to someone in the business itself, or have industry connections. Apart from myself, those who didn't have connections slept their way into their positions.

Startled by a knock at my door, I jumped in my seat and turned around; only to be greeted by one of my colleagues. 'We're all going to the movies tonight. Team bonding and whatnot,' she sounded bored, but continued, 'see you at 7.' I rolled my eyes as she left. Knowing how my colleagues worked, I'd be stuck here doing over time as usual, so I'd have to go to the cinema straight from work. I decided to let Patrick know. We hadn't made plans or anything, but I wasn't one to have much of a social life, so I figured he'd be excited for me and encourage me to go out. Minutes after hitting send on my text message, I received a phone call form Patrick.

'You are not going to the movies. We have dinner plans at 7 with my mother,' he told me. He still sounded half asleep and just as drunk, but he'd hung up before I could object. I decided not to push it, I couldn't be bothered with a fight, and it's not like I minded being a bit of an outsider here anyway. I carried on with my lunch, and the rest of my day went on uninterrupted. I locked up at half past six and drove home, shaking my head. I liked Patrick's mother, she was nice enough; but being around her without having time to mentally prepare for it was so draining on me. When I got home, I found Patrick had let himself into my house and was eating pizza on my lounge. He didn't acknowledge me at all. 

'I thought we agreed you could come here when you wanted if you let me know you were letting yourself in,' I sighed. 'Why are you eating pizza?' I added, 'I thought you said we were going to your mother's?' Patrick just shrugged.

'It's Bingo night,' he replied. 'Plus, I had to give you some reason you couldn't go out, didn't I? He asked. 'Couldn't let you get too close to anyone you work with, you see,' he added. I rolled my eyes and dropped my bag into the armchair.

'You know I only work with women,' I pointed out. I was exhausted now. Patrick had been playing these games since we got engaged, as if he thought he owned me. He stood up and walked into the kitchen, getting himself a drink. 

'You still shouldn't have friends in positions of so much power,' he informed me, sipping from one of my glasses. 'You will not,' he added. 'Don't need you getting any ideas about how you should be treated or whatnot.'

I was done arguing, so I just changed the topic. 'Did you at least order me something to eat too?' I asked.

'Now why would I do that?' He wondered. I felt my jaw clench, he was being ridiculous. Before I could respond, Patrick declared he was leaving, going to the local pub for the night because there was a Poker tournament on. He added that I shouldn't wait up, because he had no plans to return. Frankly, after his behaviour tonight I was glad he'd be leaving me to myself. I let him go without saying a word, and once my front door had shut behind him, I pulled my curtains closed and put the News on the television. It was then that I noticed that Patrick had left his empty pizza boxes just laying on my floor. I started to wonder if he'd always been this inconsiderate, and if so, why it had taken me until now to realise it. He was almost a different person when we'd met, though, so all this behaviour was new, and I had to wonder why he'd taken to being so difficult.

I decided to shower to calm myself down, and when I came out fifteen minutes later with my hair pulled back, feeling much better, I realised how hungry I was. Sighing, I headed to the kitchen. I had some leftover salad somewhere in the fridge and packets of two minute noodles in the cupboard. That would have to do, because I hadn't had time to do the groceries over the weekend. Just as I'd put the kettle on to boil, there was a knock at the front door. I flinched. I wasn't in the mood for Patrick to come back here acting like everything was fine. Then I wondered if it might be one of the ladies from work, wondering why I hadn't shown up at the cinema. 

I composed myself and opened the door, to be greeted by no one. Then I noticed the plastic bag sitting on the porch. It was full of dishes from my favourite Indian restaurant down town. They didn't deliver this far away, and I could never be bothered to drive down for it unless it was a special occasion. Must be Patrick's awful attempt at an apology, I thought as I unpacked the bag onto the kitchen bench. As I loaded up a plate of food and set the containers with leftovers aside to cool on the bench, something on the floor caught my eye. A piece of paper. Thinking it might be the receipt, I bent to pick it up. It was not a receipt. It was another note, which read: 259 York Rd, Holmes Chapel, Cheshire, Friday, July 11, 18:00. It took me a minute to process, before it dawned on me that this note was referring to the address of my work place. I looked at my calendar, biting my lip as an uneasy feeling settled over me. July 11 was this Friday. I didn't know who this person was, what they wanted, or how they knew where I lived, and now apparently also where I worked; but I knew one thing. I recognised that handwriting.

Jessica. It was Jessica. The only thing that didn't make sense to me was how she knew the Indian restaurant down town was my favourite. I had only ever been there once in my life, almost immediately falling in love with the place. The prices were crazy, but it's not as if I couldn't afford them. Patrick wasn't into Indian foods. Instead, he'd call in pizza for us every time he was in charge of organising dinner. Therefore, it was no surprise when he chose pizza of all things tonight. True to form, though; instead of us, Patrick only thought about himself. I just couldn't put my finger on why Jessica would want to meet me. Had she somehow found out about the engagement and wanted to congratulate me? Why leave a bag of food if that were the case? And if I knew Jessica she was up to no good. 

Hours had passed since my argument with Patrick, and here I was curled up in my bed with the TV on. I hadn't paid much attention to what was on as my mind wandered to the fact that I had not received one text whilst Patrick had been out. It's not like I was expecting him to be on the phone to me all the time, because I wasn't. I just thought that the decent thing to do would be to text letting me know he arrived safely or that he was leaving to head home. He never came here afterwards. That was completely out of the question. Seeing Patrick drunk off his head wasn't my idea of a good time by any means, but I knew that something would have to change after our wedding. Or, at least I could hope something would change, anyway. I thought about sending out apology texts and explain to my colleagues why I failed to attend the group outing. I decided it would be best to wait until tomorrow and tell them face to face. Everything was always best done in person rather than via technology. I knew that they'd understand. It's not like this was the first time this had occurred.


	3. Meet me in the....carpark?

I’d been dreading this moment all week, but as I locked up for the weekend after work on Friday, I couldn’t help biting my lip as I messed around with the keys to the building. I sighed and dropped those into my bag, digging through it to find my car keys instead. I glanced at my watch. 5.58PM. I turned my back on the building and headed to my car, letting myself in and sliding into the drivers’ seat, wringing my hands. I jumped as there was a knock at the window. It had come from a man I vaguely recognised, as if I’d seen him somewhere before, but I didn’t know who he was. I let myself out of the car, hand shaking slightly. ‘I didn’t expect you to still be here,’ his voice was rich and warm, and slightly husky. Again, I thought I’d heard it before, but couldn’t place it. He cleared his throat, and offered me his hand, introducing himself as Harry Styles. ‘Ivy,’ I told him, reaching to shake his hand. I noticed his fingertips were rough with callouses, but otherwise his hand was firm as it held mine. Strong, purposeful. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you, either,’ I admitted. He chuckled, and apologised, before looking at me seriously. We fell into silence then, it wasn’t awkward; I didn’t feel unsafe with him, but it was tense. ‘I promise there’s an explanation for all this,’ he told me. I raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. He sighed, and continued. ‘I work at the local pub,’ he paused, dropping his gaze to the ground. ‘I’m the musician,’ he added. I relaxed slightly as I realised that’s why I’d recognised him and not actually known who he was. I’d seen him at the pub, heard him sing a few times; but never actually made his acquaintance. ‘I’d just finished packing up after my set the night Patrick proposed to you, but before I could come down and offer my congratulations, you were gone.’ I nodded. I hadn’t been well that day, but Patrick had dragged me out to the pub in spite of my protests, so I had gone home not long after the proposal. Patrick had stayed out though, as usual. Harry bit his lip, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. ‘I went to speak to Patrick,’ he said slowly, before cutting himself off. ‘And?’ I prompted, my stomach beginning to churn. ‘He made a phone call to another woman in front of me,’ Harry was choosing his words carefully. I gave Patrick the benefit of the doubt, assuming that had been his mother. ‘She joined us not fifteen minutes after you had left,’ he sounded almost pained now, and was no longer meeting my eyes. ‘There was a lot of kissing between them,’ he told me finally. ‘Do you know her name?’ I asked quietly. Harry chuckled, kicking a stone across the asphalt. ‘She gave me her name and number,’ he told me. I didn’t have to ask before he went on. ‘Her name is Jessica Smith.’ My heart sank. It was a common name, but I was sure it had been the same woman who ruined my life all those years ago. ‘I don’t understand,’ I told him. ‘The writing on the note was Jessica’s.’ Harry nodded. ‘When I found out you worked for a lawyer, I told them I was looking for one, so Patrick gave me the address of your workplace, but made Jessica write it for me because he was drunk.’ Sounded about right. ‘I took the note, but I don’t need the lawyer.’ I’d worked that out for myself funnily enough, but I didn’t tell Harry that. ‘Why did you come here, Harry?’ I asked finally. ‘You left the first note at my house, so obviously you know where I live,’ I went on. ‘Why not just come to my house?’ ‘I couldn’t risk doing that in case Patrick showed up,’ he pointed out. I nodded. ‘I’d spoken to Patrick many times before this,’ Harry added. ‘He even took me home after my set one night, and he pointed out your house.’ ‘You got in a car with a man who’d been drinking?’ I was shocked. Harry looked alarmed for a moment, and shook his head. ‘We split a cab fare,’ he clarified. ‘As it turns out, I live a couple streets behind you.’ I crossed my arms over my chest, processing everything Harry had said. It all made sense. ‘I get the feeling you know more than you’ve shared,’ I mused. ‘Anything else?’ I wondered. ‘I didn’t want to say too much in one go,’ Harry explained. ‘I wasn’t sure how you’d take it all, or if you’d even be here to listen to me.’ ‘I am,’ I pointed out. He nodded. ‘Very well,’ he decided. ‘It’s happened more than once.’ he paused, expecting me to visibly react, I think. But I had no desire to do so. ‘I posed as their friend,’ he finally continued. ‘I took photos of them each time I ran into them together, so if you’d like to see those, you are most welcome.’ ‘Why do all this?’ I asked him finally, a dejected crack in my voice now, as I tried not to cry. ‘The whole situation just seemed too strange.’ He met my eye now, reaching out to brush tears from my cheek. I hadn’t even realised I’d began to cry: ‘It was like watching some gory footage of a medical procedure; I wanted to look away, stay uninvolved, but something compelled me to keep an eye on things.’ We fell quiet. ‘I had to find some way to tell you’ he almost sounded like he was begging, now. ‘And when I did... I got the feeling that this wasn’t over. I think there’s more going on.’ ‘So when he refused to come home to me,’ I spoke slowly, cutting myself off. I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question, but I knew I had to know. ‘Was he with her?’ My voice was barely a whisper, and I’d started shaking again. Harry reached for my shoulders, steadying me. He didn’t even have to speak, I knew everything I needed to know from the look on his face.


	4. Two Ghosts

My phone had remained switched off since having arrived home last night after work and my encounter with Harry. I knew my chances of Patrick trying to contact me whilst he was out were lower than 30%. It was rare for me to receive a text from him during the time he was at the local pub. My mind wandered endlessly to the information that this Harry guy had given me. I found it odd that someone who had no connection to me whatsoever found the need to give me information regarding my fiancé. I took in a deep breath before exhaling and glancing in the mirror, holding my hair straightener in one hand; ready to begin on my hair. "Where were you last night?" Patrick snapped as soon as my bedroom door flung open, he didn't even stop for a moment to give me time to speak, let alone explain myself, or the situation that I had been put in. "Why weren't you answering my calls? Better yet. Why was your phone switched off?" I almost forgot about that. Letting out a light laugh as I shook my head. "What. You think this is funny?" He spat. I gulped, opening my mouth to speak only to be cut off once again by Patrick as he glared at me. "Who were you with?" I weighed up my options. Do I tell Patrick about Harry and confront him about him and Jessica? Do I run the risk of Patrick harming Harry seeing as the two seemed to know one another? At least; according to Harry, they did. Or. Do I keep my mouth shut and play it cool, making it out as if everything that Harry told me never happened. "No one." I lied simply. I did drama classes all through school, giving me the advantage of being able to pull off lying easily. "I came straight home right after work. As usual I was the only one pulling my weight. I even had to pick up some of my colleagues’ work load. I ended up with a headache and just wanted to sleep it off, so I switched my phone off. I didn't want to run the risk of being woken. I'm sorry. I hadn't even realised until now." I explained, praying and hoping that my acting skills were good enough to get me through. Patrick didn't say anything. He didn't even question me on it, which gave me the impression that I was off the hook. For a while there was nothing but silence that fell between us. As if we were just two ghosts ‘cause we don't say what we really mean. I didn't mind the silence. I knew that Patrick wasn't the kind to apologise. I don't think he even knows how. He's awful at it. I was too scared to say something in case the topic coming up again, I don't know if I'd be able to lie about it again. The silence between us wasn't so bad; it gave me time to focus on my hair, making sure that each part was straightened properly. I couldn't bear the thought of having a kink in it. "So…" I heard Patrick mumble. I decided not to speak, I wasn't even sure if I heard him properly. "I was thinking," I heard him go on. He was definitely speaking now, and I knew he was speaking to me, because I knew what was about to happen. He was either going to break up with me or jump at me for having previously lied. I glanced around the room trying to find something, anything to focus my attention on as Patrick spoke, not wanting to look directly at him. "We need to make some decisions regarding the wedding." I was wrong. I was so wrong. And awful. I was so awful. Here I was thinking that Patrick was about to break up with me while he was talking about our wedding. I'm such a terrible fiancée. Everything was all such short notice but within a few hours, Patrick set out on search of venues while I was forcibly left alone with Patrick's Mum and Jessica to go dress shopping. I didn't have much say in the matter seeing as though I had no one else to use in my bridal party. Had I been close to someone from work, I would have begged Patrick to let me use them, but after the fact that I failed to show up for the work movie outing, I knew that none of them would be kind enough to agree to be in my bridal party. There was 15 minutes until closing time and within the five hours of being here I had tried on a total of 36 dress. I was about ready to give up. "Ivy." I heard Angela groan in protest. "Darling. Please. Just one more." She begged. I rolled my eyes at the word, 'darling', I knew she was only pretending to act like a good mother-in-law for the sake of her own image. "Give me one good reason why I should wear a dress." I stuck my chin out, hearing Jessica let out a loud laugh. "You're the bride Ivy." Angela reminded me. I wasn't acting this way to be petty or because I didn't want to get married, because I did. I do want to marry Patrick. I just wish that I could have done this whole bridal shopping thing with my own mum had she been here; and the fact that Patrick chose Jessica of all people, the person behind the reason as to why my parents aren't here, to be in my bridal party bothered me. Being in her presence was draining. I bit down on the corner of my bottom lip as I glanced at myself in the mirror. There was no denying the fact that the dress I currently had on was stunning. My eyes focused on the A-line bridal gown featuring a figure-flattering ruched bodice with diamante beading on its sweetheart neckline and hip. The airy, full skirt flows into a court train to create the perfect A-line wedding dress. It was perfect. Truly perfect. It definitely lives up to it's name. Dreamy Capri Chiffon. "I'll take this one." I spoke up after a few moments had passed. "Are you sure?" Angela asked as if she were disagreeing with what I had chosen. "Absolutely." I agreed with a nod of the head. There was no way I was changing my mind. I heard Angela and Jessica both mutter sounds of disapproval as I turned away to change out of the dress and into my own clothing. Whispers and mutters could be heard as I quickly changed back into my tight black jeans that were ripped at the knees along with a deep red crop top, adding on my leather black jacket. By the time I had finished changing and had handed the bridal dress back to the staff member, Angela had already filled out and finished the order forms so we were good to go. No goodbye was received from Angela, instead, she just rushed to her car and drove away leaving me alone with Jessica. "I saw you." She spat. "What?" I asked confused. What was she on about? "I saw you. Last night. With him." She commented, folding her arms against the top of her car as she leaned against it. "With who? I was home all last night." I replied. "With Harry." Jessica hissed before she hopped into her car and drove away.


	5. It's Getting Crazy, I Think I'm Losing It

I woke up to the sound of objects smashing onto the floor. With a hurry, I stumbled out of bed and pulled on my silk pink robe that had belonged to my Mum, immediately pulling opening my bedroom door. I stepped out into the small hallway to see Patrick standing in the middle of my living room with a beer can in his hand. At his feet was a broken vase. The beautiful ceramic vase that contained various different sizes of purple butterflies. The only thing that I had left of my Nana. The one thing that I had left of someone special was now shattered into pieces. There was no way of fixing this. No way possible of erasing what had already been done. 

"Patrick!" I snapped and rushed over to the mess on the floor. I can't even begin to inform you just how bad this whole thing was. The pieces were far too small to even attempt to glue back together. After two hours, according to Patrick, I had everything cleaned up. Most would say that I should have just thrown it all away, Patrick even tried reminding me that it was broken, in his words it was ‘useless keeping any of it.’ I wasn't at all near ready enough to just throw it away. 

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you I'm sorry." Patrick spoke. His words coming out in a slur due to already being drunk. Accepting his apology wasn't something that I could do right now. Nor did I dare try saying anything back. I knew that in his drunken state, anything that I had to say would end up resulting in an argument. This was something that happened everytime he was drunk. Patrick informed me that he was going to put the kettle on, to make me a tea, in a poor attempt at an apology. In a way, I admired that he was kind of trying. 

A few moments had passed since he wandered over to the kitchen. I wasn't worried though, the boiling of the kettle had always put me at ease. I slumped down onto the soft black leather couch and let my body sink further down into it for comfort, patiently awaiting my warm cup of tea that Patrick was busy making. Reaching for the remote that was sitting on the small brown coffee table that sat directly centred in front of the couch, and using it to power up the 54 inch screen samsung TV; the pads of my thumbs rapidly flipped through the TV channels until I felt the remote being pulled from within my grasp. I let it go. 

Letting Patrick pull the remote from out of my hand as I glanced up at him, I flashed a small smile at him as I reached out for the mug that he held in his hands. "Oh, no," I heard him speak, making it out as if I had poured the hot liquid on him, which I hadn't; "this isn't for you. This is for me. Hope you don't mind but I made myself a cup of noodles." Patrick informed me before he flopped down on the sofa beside me, slurping at the noodles as he flicked through the channels. His words were completely out of spite. It was like he wanted to hurt me, and that's exactly what he did. His words and actions caused me to feel nauseous and I wanted to vomit. I had so many things to say but chose to keep my mouth shut; not wanting to say anything and risk of starting a fight. 

My eyes watered as tears formed behind them; but I forced myself not to let them fall. Not even one. I wasn't going to let Patrick know that what he said and done hurt. I was not going to let him get the better of me. In about three weeks we would get married and everything would be okay. 

"Pat?" I asked. I hadn't called him Pat in so long, it felt odd to do. He didn't say anything. "Are blue and purple good wedding colours for you?" I went on to say, stopping myself so that I didn't say too much. 

"Yeah." He agreed, uninterested. "Whatever you want." He added, lifting his beer can to his lips and took a large gulp of the alcohol. 

The time seemed to have flown by leaving me surprised as to why it was after 7pm, and Patrick hadn't left to head down to the pub yet. As if he had read my mind he got up off the couch leaving me to watch him walk over towards the front door. He didn't even say anything, not one word. Was he really heading down to the pub without saying goodbye? He wouldn't do that, would he? "What're you doing here?" I heard Patrick scoff loudly after having pulled the door open, revealing... Harry? Who was standing there, Chinese dishes in the plastic bag that he held in his hand.

"Just here delievering the foods you ordered." Harry spoke up. His voice deep and raspy. Sounding like an angel with his words. 

"We didn't order this. Any of this." Patrick spat rudely. I was ashamed of his behaviour and mad at him for the way that he had treated Harry. It only took me a moment to weigh up my options. I could do one of two things: I could just tell them both that Harry was clearly at the wrong address, because we hadn't ordered anything, and let Patrick win. Or, I could stand up for Harry and lie to Patrick, telling him that I had been the one to order the food. I wasn't going to sit back and let him act this way, not to company, at least; and definitely not after the way he’d treated me today. 

"Actually." I began to speak, getting up off the couch, walking over to the front door to join the two of them. "I did. I ordered it." I spoke again. 

"Excuse me?" Patrick asked, glaring between Harry and I. 

"I thought you would have headed down to the pub by the time it was due to arrive. I hadn't expected you to stay so late." I admitted, it's not like I was even lying that much. Harry didn't say anything but with the small smile on his lips I could tell that he was thankful for my actions. Harry didn't utter a word. He just handed me the bag of food and nodded his head before walking away. I could tell just by the look that Patrick was giving me when I turned to face him, that he had been previously looking between Harry and I as if he suspected something. 

"I'm going to the pub. Don't wait up." Were the only words that Patrick told me before he walked away, leaving me completely alone in my apartment.


	6. Kiwi

I rifled through the plastic bag, looking for the note I knew would be hidden somewhere. ‘Friday, August 1, 3pm.’ – I was stunned. That was our wedding day, right down to the time of the ceremony. I had no idea why Harry would bring such a thing to my attention, but I was pulled from my thoughts by a knock at the door. 

'Sorry I keep showing up unannounced,’ Harry looked sheepish, but even still, I couldn’t help noticing how beautiful he was. I stepped back and let him inside, knowing Patrick would be out all night, probably in Jessica’s company, no less. If Patrick expected me to tolerate that, he would have to put up with my blossoming friendship with Harry. It was only fair. 

Harry had settled into the sofa, and before I could contain myself I’d burst into tears. Harry jumped up immediately. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry. ‘Oh, Harry,’ I sobbed. ‘This is all such an awful mess, I can’t do this.’ With a sigh, Harry pulled me gently into his chest, and began humming into my hair. When I’d settled, Harry guided me down onto the sofa, and headed into the kitchen. I heard the kettle start up, and almost cried again. Harry had known me all of a week and a half, and already he was showing more concern for me than Patrick had in years. Harry returned then, handing me a mug of tea and a container of Chinese food, and joining me on the couch. 

‘Patrick is insisting I perform at the wedding,’ he told me. ‘I wanted you to have a say in it too before I commit to it.’ I shrugged. There was no point arguing with Patrick, and I told Harry as much. 

‘Might be nice to have one friend at my own wedding,’ I chuckled. 

‘I’d be honoured,’ we were both laughing now, and it was so nice to finally feel connected to someone who valued me. ‘I had an idea last night,’ Harry informed me. I nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

Harry left half an hour later, and we’d put his plan in motion. 

I received a text from Harry just after 7pm, by this time I had already showered and eaten. I considered the thought of staying in but somehow decided against it. Being the only explanation as to why I stood outside the pub with the giant sign above the door that read, 'Barney's'. Fifteen minutes went by and the thought of leaving entered my mind three times. Coming up with the idea that I could slip in there, let Harry know I had made it but that I wouldn't be hanging around and then leave. He'd be okay with that. I knew that Harry would be able to understand that of all the time Patrick's been here, he hasn't ever once asked me to go with. I took in a deep breath of air before I stepped past the security guard and reached out to grab a firm hold on the door handle, pulling the heavy metal door. Immediately, loud cheering could be heard along with the sound of someone singing. My eyes glancing around the place until they fell on Harry. He was standing on the small stage with a microphone in one hand dressed in warm weather gear as it was cold out. 

"It's New York, baby, always jacked up." I heard him sing. It was almost too good to be true. He sounded like an angel. "Holland Tunnel for a nose, it's always backed up." He wasn't looking at me moments ago but now he was. I could feel his glare on me as he sung the next few lyrics. "When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus. In a black dress, she's such an actress." I had to force myself to break eye contact with him and look away. I wondered if Patrick were here. If he were, surely he would have spotted me by now. I found myself looking around the room, hoping to find anything or anyone to focus on for the remaining duration of Harry's performance. And as if on cue; my eyes did just as I had wanted them to. They landed on someone; my only problem being who that was. Patrick. I could feel my blood begin to boil and my fists close shut tightly just at the sight of him and Jessica. His arms around her waist with her in his lap and her arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed. My eyes watered as tears welled up in my eyes trying to slip through. I felt sick to my stomach and needed to get out of here. I ran. I ran as fast as I could out the door and half way down the street, hoping that no one noticed.


	7. Is There Any More To Do?

A week had passed since I went to watch Harry’s set at the pub, and had caught Patrick with Jessica. The wedding was only two weeks away now, and most things had been sorted out. We’d finalised the venue and celebrant for the ceremony, the colour scheme, the virtually non-existent guest list; and decided we’d have the reception at my house to save money, considering we would have such a small number of guests. This eliminated the need for catering, too. All that was left to do was decide on Harry’s set for the reception (he wouldn’t be playing at the ceremony; because Patrick had asked him to be his Best Man), and finalise my dress and the boys’ suits. Jessica was insistent she arrange her own dress, and Angela was the same. Frankly, I didn’t really care. I didn’t really want either of them at my wedding in the first place, so what they wore didn’t affect me so long as they stuck to the wedding colours Patrick had approved of. The less I had to deal with them both, the better. 

I was currently sat at work on my lunch break, and for once, I wasn’t working through it. Well, I was, but by working I mean organising wedding stuff, and by organising wedding stuff, I mean trying to arrange a rehearsal for the ceremony. That was not going to plan. Everyone had to be there, and as flexible as Harry and I were, no one else seemed to have time available to do it. I was pulled from my dilemma by my phone vibrating against my desk. Harry was calling. 

We exchanged greetings and Harry jumped straight to the point. ‘Are you okay?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve had this awful feeling all day and I keep getting signs to check on you.’ Sighing, and, truth be told, a little teary, I filled Harry in on my situation. 

‘I’m not performing tonight,’ he told me. ‘Text me when you finish and I’ll come pick you up from work; and bring you back to my place so we can work out the set for the reception together.’ 

‘What about my car?’ I wondered. I could tell Harry had shrugged on the other end of the line. 

‘I’ll catch a bus to your work, drive you here; we’ll do what we need to, and then I’ll drive you home.’ Before I could ask, Harry added, ‘I’ll walk back from your place, it’s not far.’ 

‘You don’t need to drive me home Harry, I can drive myself,’ I pointed out. 

Harry chuckled. ‘That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me now, would it?’ 

‘I have to go, Harry;’ I replied. ‘My lunch break is almost over. I finish at 6pm.’ 

‘I’ll be there,’ he assured me. And the line went dead. 

Hours later, I was locking up the building again; and had assumed I was alone until I was tapped on the shoulder. I jumped, kicking my toe on the heavy door to the building, and turning around. ‘Jesus Christ, Harry!’ I hissed. ‘You frightened the life out of me!’ 

‘Sorry, love.’ His voice was warm and husky, and suddenly I was reminded of our first encounter in this very spot. We walked to my car and, too tired to argue with him, I gave him my keys. He opened the passenger side door for me, closed it once I had sat down, and climbed into the drivers’ seat. I couldn’t help laughing as the door shut behind him. He raised an eyebrow in my direction. 

‘I’ve never sat in this seat in my own car,’ I told him. ‘I’m over tired,’ I added, and everything is funnier to me than it should be. Harry chuckled, and reached across to brush his hand over my cheekbone. 

‘You had a stray lash,’ he explained, his touch lingering on my face. The drive was silent, but a comfortable silent. Something I hadn’t had with Patrick for a long time. 

When we got to Harry’s he headed straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on. When he returned, the kettle was still boiling, so he didn’t have mugs with him, but he had something hidden behind his back. Before I could ask, he revealed a bunch of Lilies. ‘How did you know?’ I asked. Harry rolled his eyes. 

‘I’m part of your wedding,’ he pointed out. ‘And unlike your husband-to-be, I pay attention to the things you tell me about it.’ I was touched. Such a beautiful, small, but most meaningful gesture; and for someone I’d barely known three weeks. ‘They’re for you,’ he told me; and now it was my turn to roll my eyes. Before I could make a smart remark, Harry cut me off. ‘But you can keep them here if you don’t want to take them home in case it causes an issue with Patrick.’ I nodded, he was right. Harry busied himself finding a vase, and no sooner had he placed the flowers on display on the coffee table, the kettle reached boiling point, and he headed to the kitchen, returning with mugs in hand. I thanked Harry, and he nodded, joining me on the couch. 

‘Is there anything specific you’d like me to play?’ He asked. 

I shrugged. ‘It doesn’t really matter, Harry, I reminded him; ‘Patrick is cheating on me, and if we pull of this plan, there won’t be a reception for you to play at.’ The brunette flicked his curls out of his eyes and took a long sip from his mug. 

‘Is there anything you’ve ever mentioned to Patrick that you want played at your wedding?’ He asked. ‘We still have to make this look legitimate enough that no one gets suspicious.’ I nodded. 

‘Wonderwall, by Oasis,’ I told him. He nodded, and reached across to the coffee table for a notepad I hadn’t noticed until now; making a note. 

‘Anything else?’ He prompted. I shook my head. 

‘You can basically play whatever else you want,’ I told him, finishing my tea. I bit my lip. ‘What do I tell Patrick if he’s at my house when you take me home?’ I asked. 

‘I came to see you on your lunch break about this,’ Harry gestured to his notebook. ‘And when I mentioned that my car broke down, you leant me yours for the afternoon so I could do some errands.’ I nodded. ‘When I came back to return your car, I saw you hurt your foot on the door, so I offered to drive you home, but I had to go to an appointment before I could take you; because I still needed your car, which explains why I didn’t bring you straight from work.’


	8. Well, I Guess She Just Found Out

Five days had passed since I last saw or spoke to Harry. It's not that I didn't want to or that I didn't have time because I did. Patrick just wouldn't let me. Patrick was at my house up and waiting for me since the time I got off work. Said he even had a romantic dinner planned at mine for the two of us. He was furious to learn that I arrived home with Harry after having spent a few hours after work at his place. Automically accusing me of cheating on him. Both Harry and I assured Patrick that nothing happened but he wouldn't have it even though Harry had been the only one to help me finish off our wedding preparation. His only solution was that I couldn't socialise with Harry in anyway until after the wedding. 

I got off work early and headed straight home, letting myself in through the front door then disgarding my work papers in the small study that was located nearest to the kitchen. 

"I know that, Mum." I heard Patrick's voice through the wall of my bedroom. Patrick was lucky enough not to have work today getting the whole day off to do nothing. "He's going to ruin everything." There was a pause making it clear to me that Angela was talking. I couldn't hear what she had to say but I knew that it was no good. 

Normally I found it wrong to earsdrop but I had every reason to do just that. Patrick seemed as though he was talking about our wedding and Harry. I had to know what he was saying. 

"Everything was going good until he came along. I've already told Ivy I don't want her socialising with him." Another pause. "Yes. I am aware of that, Mum." He spoke again clearly agreeing with whatever she said. "Harry's a major threat. He knows, Mum. Harry knows why I'm with her." 

I felt my stomach churn. It was like a big punch to the stomach and I don't know what hurt more; the fact that Harry knew why Patrick was with me and hadn't told me or the fact that Patrick was only with me for one reason. But what? 

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket quickly punching in my password before going straight for my messages to find Harry's contact. I quickly typed out my simple text to Harry letting him know that I needed to speak with him at the local cafe asap. Minutes after hitting send on my text message, I received a text back from Harry, stating that he had time to meet now. 

Patrick wasn't aware that I got off early nor would he figure it out unless he saw me out here which he hadn't yet. I knew that I could make it to Harry's and back before my usual work finish time; 6pm. Patrick wouldn't suspect a thing. 

It only took me five minutes to reach the cafe. I didn't find it all that surprising that I was here before Harry. Some how Harry always managed to find a way to run late. 

I didn't mind though it gave me more time to think through things. Did I really want to know Patrick's reasoning? 

I had a lot of questions and I knew that Harry was the only one capable of answering them. Had I asked Patrick he would have found some kind of way to turn it back on me. Had I asked him I never would have gotten an answer. At least not an honest one. 

On three seperate occasions I had been asked if I wish to order anything or if I knew what I wanted to order, all coming from a different waiter each time. 

Being so focused on waiting for Harry to arrive I didn't even hear the small chirming sound that went off each time the door was pulled opened. I had my eyes focused on staring down at my hands that I hadn't even realised I had been joined by Harry, not until I heard him speak. 

"Hey." He spoke softly. I didn't say anything just sent a small smile in his direction to show that his presence had been noticed. "Are you alright?" I heard him ask moments after I didn't say anything. 

"I'm fine." I replied simply not wanting to bring up what Patrick had said just yet. I'd decided to give Harry the opportunity to come forward and tell me himself. I just hoped that I didn't have to bring it up at all. 

"You don't look fine." Came his words. It was like he could see straight through me and knew that I was lying. 

"Then stop looking." I commented. 

Fifteen minutes had went by since I snapped at Harry I didn't mean to and felt entirely bad for how I had acted towards him but I wasn't entirely sure how to approach the matter. We both ordered hot chocolates and had been sipping on them since the waiter arrived with them. The both of us thanking the young teen boy for having delievered them to our table. 

"Ivyanna." His voice was calm and gentle making my name sound so beautiful coming from him. "What's wrong?" 

Harry's pretty green eyes were focused on looking into mine, I could tell that he wouldn't budge. I had no way out of this. I had to tell him what I knew. 

I watched him place his mug down carefully onto the table then folded his arms against his chest, I copied his actions, resulting in Harry letting out a loud chuckle, shaking his head during the process. His actions made it seem as though he was childish and silly but I knew that he was being serious about this. Harry geninuely wanted to know. 

I took in a deep breath before exhaling it out just as I took the corner of my bottom lip into my mouth between my teeth, chewing down on it nervously.

"I got off early today and went straight home. Patrick was there but he didn't see me. He was on the phone. And, I.. I.." I started to explain no longer looking at Harry though I could feel his eyes piercing through my skin. "I overheard him on the phone to his Mum." 

"And?" Harry cut in. 

"He told her that you're a threat because you know why he's with me." 

Harry never replied. He remained silent and motionless as I glanced up at him with my eyes. Why was it so hard for him to tell me? What was he hiding? His eyes closed as he took in a few small breaths. 

"Do you remember the very first note that I sent you?" He asked and I nodded, deciding not to say a word so that he could go on. "I sent it to you two nights after having met Patrick at the pub. He told me some things. Things that I didn't agree with." Harry paused and I took this as my opportunity to say something.

"What did he say?" I demanded. "Harold, what did Patrick tell you!"


	9. They Told Me That The End Is Near

Harry refused to tell me anything, except that he would handle it, and that all would be revealed at the right time. Apparently, it all had to do with his plan. I was still somewhat anxious about the conversation I'd overheard between Patrick and Angela, but I trusted Harry; so, I did my best to just carry on as usual.

We were four days out from the wedding now; and I'd finally made everyone understand how important it was to me that we had a rehearsal for the ceremony, so; while it had been on short notice, I was headed to the venue Patrick had decided on now to meet everyone.

I sighed as I pulled up to the venue. Of course, Patrick had chosen somewhere completely opposite to what we'd discussed. We'd talked about an outdoor wedding of some kind; the beach, a botanical garden, something like that. I'd arrived at a tiny, dark church; that in all honesty, looked so run down it might collapse at any given second without warning. Knowing my luck lately, if it was going to come down, it would do so around us. Gritting my teeth, I shut my car door behind me and approached the others. According to what I picked up from the conversation as I approached, Patrick and Jessica had offered to pick up Angela; and of course, my Mother-In-Law-To-Be absolutely loved Jessica. I had to hold back a laugh of disgust as I noticed Patrick's arm around my Maid of Honour. I felt someone's presence behind me and turned to see Harry, who offered me a small, encouraging smile. The celebrant emerged from the building then, and invited us inside. 

It was just as I'd suspected; dark, freezing cold, and the hardwood floors were water damaged. I rolled my eyes, and felt someone put a hand on my right shoulder. Glancing in that direction, I realised it was Harry, and I felt relieved to know that at least someone I'd be sharing my wedding with was genuinely concerned for my feelings and wellbeing. The lighting flickered overhead, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from having an outburst. The celebrant was saying something about the heating in here being under maintenance, but I wasn't really paying any attention.

'Jessica and Patrick's mother have gone to change,' Harry had dropped his head so his hair covered my shoulder as he spoke. 'The celebrant is discussing money with Patrick outside. We'll be beginning shortly.'

'Can you fucking believe this?' I hissed. 'It's not even a dress rehearsal,' I added as an afterthought, as Harry moved his head back up, and I heard Patrick's voice reverberating off the brick walls. Someone cleared their throat behind us, and Harry and I turned around.

Jessica stood before us, in a bright red, extremely lowcut dress that was so tight it was as if she'd been sewn into it. 

'Tell me how great I look!' She demanded.

I was speechless. What she had on wasn't even appropriate for a wedding, and she hadn't even chosen something in our wedding colours, which was the only thing I'd asked her to do. I sighed heavily, pressing my fingers into my temples.

'All I asked,' I breathed, 'was that you wear blue, or purple. I didn't think that would be too hard, even for you.'

'Patrick liked it!' She sneered. 'It's sexy. Blue and purple are boring!'

'I don't care if you think they're bloody boring!' I snapped. 'They're my wedding colours. You look like you're going clubbing, not attending a wedding. Much less attending as the Maid of Honour!' 

'Ivy!' Angela exclaimed. 'You can't say those things to someone, it's not how a lady should carry herself. Least of all in a quaint little church like this.'

'Quaint?!' I repeated in disbelief. 'You - you, of all people, think this is fucking quaint?!' Angela's jaw dropped, but I'd started now, and had no intention of stopping; until Harry closed a hand around my wrist. I knew it was Harry, his fingers were calloused from playing the guitar. I looked over, and I'd never seen him like this. His eyes were blazing like emeralds, his jaw was locked, and there was a vein protruding prominently from his neck.

'Get your hand off my fiancée!' Patrick barked. I rolled my eyes, and Harry's grip on my wrist tightened slightly. 

'You are the last man alive who deserves Ivy,' Harry spoke clearly, meeting Patrick's gaze; before turning to Angela. 'Your son is a terrible person,' he spat, 'but I suppose it must run in the family, because so are you.' Angela rose a hand to hear mouth in alarm. Harry turned to Jessica. 'And you; you vile, manipulative, heartless little wench,' his voice had risen considerably by this point. 'You disgust me.'

Patrick looked to Harry. 'If I see you here tomorrow; or at what will be my house by then, afterwards,' he drawled; 'I will call the Police. Get out.' Then he turned to me. 'I told you, you were not to speak to or interact with this man.' His voice was eerily calm. 'And now he's holding you, defending you; acting as if you're worth something? In front of me, no less?' He laughed. 'I specifically forbade you from having any friends,' his eyes were twinkling with malice. 'You know that, sweetheart.' He looked around the room, almost challenging someone to call him out on his behaviour. 'Say goodbye,' he instructed. 'Now.' When Harry headed for the door, Patrick looked at the rest of us and declared the rehearsal was off; and, looking at me, he added that I was lucky he wasn't calling off the whole damned wedding. I wished he would.


	10. Almost Over, Had Enough From You

Friday, August 1st, 2pm. I was stunned. There's only an hour left until the ceremony would start, leaving me with no option but to marry Patrick. I hadn't had any communication with Harry over the last four days. Patrick wouldn't have it, and, to ensure that I wouldn't go behind his back, he felt the need to take my phone from me. During the time that he was out getting pissed drunk; he had Jessica watch over me. Jessica of all people. 

Angela was present in the room with Jessica and I. Only once did she speak a word directly towards me; and when she had, it was a smart remark. Angela always treated Jessica with respect, as if she were the one marrying her son. I couldn't work out why.

I wasn't left with very much time to prepare my appearance for this occasion, which only left me feeling nervous in the worst kind of way. Nervous that Harry wouldn't show up. Had Patrick scared Harry away by warning him to stay away? Or was Harry working with Patrick? He wasn't. Was he? He couldn't be. 

My opportunity came the moment Angela left the room, I wasn't going to waste it. I glanced up at the large silver clock that hung high on the wall. 2;37pm. Leaving me with only 23 minutes. I bit down on my bottom lip; forcing myself to get it over with. 

"Jessica?" I asked softly as if I were scared of her. Did I even have a reason to be scared of her? "Were you there the night Patrick met Harry?" I needed to know for sure. And right now, she was the only one I could ask.

She stopped what she had been doing and set down the large make up brush; rising from her seat to move over towards the couch where she had laid out her dress. Still insisting on wearing red, which Patrick encouraged, even after the chaos that went down at the rehearsal. It was like he didn't even care that I had a colour scheme set out. "Why're you worried about that? Ivy, hon. You're marrying Patrick, stop worrying about the meddling Harry's caused." Jessica snickered. 

"I was just wondering if Patrick had mentioned me to Harry." I shrugged. I tried not to make a big deal out of it or blow up at Jessica, she always seemed to have a way of provoking people. More specifically; me. 

"No offence, Ivy; but you're beginning to sound like a slut. You're marrying Patrick for Christ sake yet here you are, on the day of your fucking wedding thinking about some other guy." She sneered. "You wonder why Patrick thinks you're cheating on him with Harry. All you're worried about is Harry, and on your fucking wedding day!" 

I was furious. Of all people how dare she say that. Me? A slut? Says the one sleeping around with my fiancé. I could feel my blood boil. I felt as though my head was about to explode from the words that I had heard. I was so ready to just completely lose my temper, and make a smart remark back. I was desperate to hurt her the way that her words pained me. 

"Oh, like you can talk." I snapped. I wasn't going to put up with this.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She scoffed.

"Don't act like you don't know. I know you're---" I was cut off by the loud sound that was pounding at the door. I could feel Jessica's eyes on me as the sound grew louder by the time another knock came from it. 

"Are you going to get that?" She asked rudely. "It's clearly your lover boy anyway." I wasn't stupid. I knew she was talking about Harry. She was just trying to wind me up again. I wasn't in the mood for this. Ignoring the words that she spoke, I headed over towards the door and took a grasp on the handle before I had pulled it open to reveal a strange young man standing there with two bouquets of roses; one red, the other white. I was confused. Why would someone deliver flowers to my dressing room door on my wedding day? This was in no way a gesture that came from Patrick.

"Ivyanna?" He asked with an eyebrow raised, I just nodded my head simply; accepted the flowers and envelope that I had been handed, thanking him in the process, as I took in the scent of the fresh sweet roses I had received.

The answer to all this was was simple: Harry. 

As I stood hidden behind the wall that was nearest to the door of the church I felt a bunch of mixed emotions. Was this really the right thing to do? Harry promised me in his note that everything would work out and that I just had to trust him. The amount of trust that I had in him was ridiculously high for someone of whom I've only known a month. Angela and Jessica had both already walked down the aisle. Neither one of them wore either of the colours I picked out. The only sound that I could hear coming from inside the church was 'Treat You Better' by Shawn Mendes. I couldn't hold back the laugh that passed through my lips. We had organised for the music to be my queue to walk down the aisle. And I never picked out Shawn's song, I had arranged for 'Anything Could Happen', by Ellie Goulding to be the entrance song when I walked down. 

There had to be some kind of mistake, so, I waited patiently for them to fix it up and switch songs. 

It took me a few moments to register that the song wasn't going to be changed and I was left with no choice but to walk down the aisle. Alone. The decision to walk alone was simple; I've been on my own for a long time, and had no family members or friends that I was comfortable enough with asking. I was still anxious with how all of this would play out, I just prayed that whatever Harry has planned would work. I held my head high, taking small steps down the aisle; not wanting to fall face first and make a fool out of myself in front of everyone. Automatically I found myself taking notice of Harry, and how stunning he looked standing out the front in a black tux and a light shade of purple tie, which wasn't tied properly. Normally this would have bothered me, but I was more thankful that someone had cared enough to follow my colour scheme. I could tell that his bright green eyes were focused on me, and I admired the fact that he cared enough to show up, despite Patrick threatening him off. I flashed a wide smile in his direction before scanning my eyes across the room, landing on Patrick. He hadn't even noticed me; which was no surprise, due to the fact that he was far too busy staring at Jessica. I managed to make it right to the end of the aisle going unnoticed by Patrick. 

"You look stunning, Ivyanna. So breathtakingly beautiful." Harry spoke quietly, in a deep husky voice, making his words sound so charming. 

Noticing only after Harry gave me a small hug and a gentle kiss to the cheek, Patrick snatched my hand into his own and pulled me up to the alter with so much force I almost fell. Our wedding officiant was quick to notice the tension between Patrick and Harry. After how the rehearsal went down he would have learnt not to give Patrick time to start anything. 

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the presence of family and friends to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony." I heard Mark, our wedding officiant began to speak, wasting no time on getting everyone seated. "At this time, I would like to advise you all that I've kindly been asked by Mr Styles himself, to ensure that everyone collects their small envelope, that's been stuck under their seat, before progressing any further." 

A few people scraped their seats against the floor boards while others tore tape from the bottom of their seats just to get to their envelopes. I looked back over my shoulder at Harry, taking notice of the smirk that was visible on his lips. What was he up to?


	11. Woman

I hadn’t noticed, but in the commotion, Harry had taken the microphone from Mark, and he began to speak. ‘That’s right,’ he encouraged, ‘open them up now, go on.’ Patrick began fidgeting opposite me, and I couldn’t resist pursing my lips in anticipation. This would be interesting, to say the least. ‘What you have there, ladies and gentlemen,’ Harry continued finally; ‘is a series of photos of Mr Patrick Collins, which as you can see, have all been printed with the dates they were taken in the right hand corners of them.’ Harry paused for a moment as we watched Patrick’s eyes dart around the room, looking anywhere but at Harry or myself. ‘You’ll notice,’ Harry went on, ‘that these photos show Mr. Collins with a woman that is not the lovely Miss Ivyanna Edwards, who you all know is up here with Mr Collins and myself as his Bride-To-Be.’ Patrick’s face had gone paper white by this point, and he was visibly shaking. I wondered if he might pass out, and had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at how much that would amuse me. Mark had given up continuing the ceremony, and had left the alter. He was now up the back of the church, talking to someone I didn’t recognise. ‘Now,’ Harry laughed. ‘I’m sure you all recognise the woman Mr Collins is with in the photos as our Maid of Honour, Jessica Smith.’ 

There were noises of shock and disgust from the crowd, and Harry’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, as he continued once again. ‘Now, that’s not all,’ he looked to the back of the church and nodded. The man Mark had been talking to nodded back, and a projector screen descended behind Harry. 

‘I object!’ Angela had stood up, her face a deep crimson. ‘You will not soil my reputation, and drag my son through the mud on his wedding day!’ I rolled my eyes. 

‘Sit down, Ms Collins!’ Mark barked unexpectedly. ‘I will not have your son soil the concept of Holy Matrimony.’ Looking around the church, Angela dropped back into her seat in embarrassment, hiding her face. 

‘I happen to have video footage here, of the very reason this man and woman should not, and will not be wed,’ Harry announced. He pulled a small remote from the pocket inside his jacket. ‘I obtained this footage the night I met Mr Collins at the local pub,’ Harry explained. ‘That happens to be the very night he proposed to Miss Edwards. I record all my sets to look back on and use as building material; and had forgotten to turn off the camera while I was packing up.’ He pressed play, and everyone watched. 

The footage began with Harry packing away his microphone and disassembling its stand into a case. Then harry began to clean and retune his guitar. ‘Hey, man; great set,’ came Patrick’s voice. Harry looked up and abandoned his guitar, walking over to Patrick. 

‘Thank you; I appreciate that,’ he said. ‘You just proposed to your partner, didn’t you?’ He asked. Patrick nodded, and Harry offered his congratulations. ‘I hope you are both very happy,’ he added. 

‘Happy?’ Patrick repeated. He laughed. ‘I’m not marrying her because I’m happy,’ he explained. ‘I don’t love her,’ he added, ‘never have.’ 

‘Then what on Earth are you doing?’ Harry asked. 

‘I need citizenship here,’ Patrick shrugged. ‘I can get it if I marry someone whose already a British Citizen.’ 

‘Why her then?’ Harry demanded. 

Patrick shrugged again. ‘Convenience more than anything. We’ve been dating years.’ Harry clenched his jaw. Before he could say anything, Patrick continued. ‘Makes more sense than dumping Ivy, officially starting a relationship with Jess, and then having to wait until I’ve been dating her long enough to marry her.’ 

‘So you’ve been seeing this Jessica, whilst you’re dating the woman you just proposed to?’ Harry asked, Patrick nodded. ‘How long have you been seeing her?’ 

‘Let’s see,’ Patrick replied. ‘I’ve been with Ivy three years,’ he stated. ‘I started seeing Jess about two years into our relationship,’ he went on. ‘So, about a year now?’ 

And that’s where Harry’s footage ended. A stunned silence fell over the church. You could almost hear my heart drop out of my chest, roll off the alter and out the door. Harry cleared his throat. ‘So, there you have it, folks. This wedding will not be going ahead as planned, and the reception is cancelled.’ There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd. ‘I dare say this whole relationship is over,’ Harry continued, ‘Which means that Mr Collins is free to date Miss Smith, and Miss Edwards is no longer cornered into a toxic marriage by an abusive, controlling drunk.’


	12. It's Like I Paid For It, I'm Gonna Pay For This.

A wall of French doors opens up to the private pool and tranquil patio courtyard; perfect for dining al fresco and enjoying the spectacular ocean view. Enjoying was exactly what I was doing. I sat out on the patio under the cover that the second level provided me with. Staring straight out at the beautiful crystal clear water that the ocean had to offer. I leaned back into the sun lounge as my eyes fluttered closed, just enjoying the peace and quiet that I had been given, taking my time to take in the fresh air that I was surrounded by. 

"Good morning." I heard him speak softly. He didn't have to say anything else as I already knew whose company I had received. 

I decided to go ahead with the honeymoon. Patrick already had it paid for, and I would have hated to see such a beautiful opportunity to come to the Bahamas go to waste. I had no trouble with convincing him to come with me. I sighed contently as my eyes slowly reopened. Automatically catching sight of him standing there with a mug in his two large hands and his curls kept back out of his face. His lips were pressed firmly together showing off the smile that was resting there. I have never seen a sight so beautiful. 

"Thank you, Harry." I spoke quietly, sitting up at the same time that I held my hands out to accept the mug from the older male. "You've been so good to me, I can never repay you for that." I lifted the mug to press against my lips, taking a small sip of the warm tea that Harry had kindly given me. 

"Ivyanna, love." Harry spoke through a soft chuckle, sitting down in the sun lounge right beside me. "You already have." I was about to ask how I had repaid him but he beat me to it. "Out of everyone you chose to bring me here. You could have just let his money go to waste but didn't, you're too good of a person."

"Come on, Harold." I whined quietly, sitting the half empty mug down on the small rounded dark brown coffee table. My body required a tea or two each morning before it could fully prepare for the day. "You and I both know that besides you, I have no friends I could have asked." With the way that Harry had treated me right from the start and with everything that he willingly did for me; asking him to accompany me to the Bahamas was the very least that I could do. 

"My point is that you didn't have to go, nor did you have to bring me with you, but you did; and I'm glad." Harry admitted. "Those flower petals on the bed when we arrived last night were to die for." He teased playfully. Harry and I went through with the honeymoon package that Patrick and I had planned for. There was no way that I was letting such a good opportunity slip away. Upon arrival, we were provided with a bubbly welcome; a bottle of chilled sparkling wine elegantly arranged in the room. The flower special that Harry joked about, and a delightful delivery of fresh flowers along with a decadent breakfast in bed. We haven't received the last two, yet. Harry arranged for that to happen on our last day here; said it was best that way. 

Harry's committed to not throwing away any time sitting around doing nothing. Harry's ambitious; meaning he has to be doing something productive at all times. Hours ago, he had asked if I had any suggestions in mind on how we spend the day. Keeping it lowkey, I suggested we hang out in our private pool. However, Harry had bigger plans. Since the moment he learned that the resort offered Scuba diving, (I blame William, our own personal Butler,) he instantly had his heart set on it. I was nervous to say the least, Harry constantly reminded me that this was an experience of a lifetime, even held my hand the whole time for extra support. I couldn't thank him enough for that. The smile on Harry's face was out of this world. I could just tell by the look in his eye that he was enjoying every moment of it. Diving into the warm waters of the Bahamas showed a world of surprises; Spanish ships, beautiful coral and enormous amounts of tropical fish. At one point Harry had wanted to enter the Shark reef; this being the most popular attraction in the Bahamas as it gives you the chance to swim with the sharks and watch them in their own world. I've always had a fear of sharks even once promised myself that I would never get up close with one. Never once did he push the option on me. The moment that Harry released no dolphins were going to turn up today, I knew he was disappointed. A lot of the time he mentioned how he hoped we would be able to dive with them but we weren't that lucky. Scuba diving in the Bahamas is one of the most enjoyable and unique experiences in the world. I'm entirely thankful that Harry convinced me to join him.

"I promise you, Harry." I began to tell him, stopping to pause as I turned my head to the side to look over at him, making our way along the soft white sand, and straight up to our Royal Estate Beachfront two story Villa Suite. "I'll take you swimming with Dolphins. Someday." 

"I might just have to hold you to that." Harry joked. I couldn't quite tell if he were being serious or genuinely joking around.

The Villa is a luxurious, sprawling retreat being a reminiscent of a true Bahamian manor, with every luxury imaginable; including direct beach access, and a private pool. The spectacular love nest suite is a privileged sanctuary arranged over two levels. In the first suite, a spacious grand room is suited to entertaining on the most lavish scale, with a large living room, featuring contemporary island-style furnishings arranged around a smart television; a dining room with seating for eight, and a half bathroom, with the French doors leading out to the pool and patio. Upstairs, an opulent master suite encompasses a den, a modern four-poster mahogany king-size bed, walk in closet and a balcony that overlooks the turquoise Caribbean Sea. The suite's marble bath is complete with a double vanity, walk in shower, bidet and a whirlpool tub to relax in while you soak in this tropical paradise.

"Don't you find the Butler service a little weird?" Harry asked me. "Could you imagine the amount of people that would take advantage of their service?" He lay sprawled out on the bed comfortably, his head resting back against the large pile of soft pillows, and his hair covering parts of his face.

"People take honeymoons seriously, Harold." I reminded him, glancing over at him as I pulled on the white 'hers' robe that had been laid out neatly on the bed. Harry had been provided a matching white robe with 'his' written on it. Reaching up with my hands to run my fingers through my hair, I pulled it back into a loose ponytail and slipped the elastic band off my wrist, tying it around my hair. "Anyway,’’ I added; “you can't complain. You've got the opportunity to have someone wait on you every second of the day, take advantage of it, Styles."


	13. Have The Time Of Your Life

Unfortunately, time wasn't something that anyone had a lot of, because even on the rare occasions when you did, it was just one of those things that disappeared with the blink of an eye. Often enough, some people would take time for granted; though if you're lucky enough to be in the presence of such a thing, you really ought to cherish it. I like to think that the time away Harry and I had shared had been cherished, well spent, and that we didn't let a single moment slip away. 

We weren't lucky enough to be blessed with the opportunity to catch a glance at a dolphin. None showed up, and I knew that this bothered Harry. I had plans to make that up to him. But otherwise, I do believe that we had a good time. After everything; it was nice to be able to just get away and just enjoy ourselves with no worries. 

The majority of our time had been spent down at the beach, participating in all sorts of activities that they had going on - volleyball, beach cricket, sand sculpture competitions, even a couple surfing lessons. Harry's extremely adventurous, so we were always doing something. There was no way that he was up for sitting around and doing nothing. That's just not him. 

As soon as we landed at the airport; Harry suggested that we grab something to eat. After retreiving our suitcases and doing so, we headed out of the airport and jumped into Harry's car, heading straight for my house. The drive between destinations didn't take long. It was only a half hour drive at the most. Harry climbed out of the car to grab my bags, and before I could object, he had carried them up the few small stairs and over to the front door. I tried to take them from him twice, but he wouldn't have it. Harry stayed for an hour before heading home. He’d noticed how tired I was, and insisted I needed sleep. 

11:53pm. This makes it exactly 3 hours and 45 minutes since Harry had left. In that time, I managed to empty out my suitcase, chucking all clothing items into the washing machine; and return my toothbrush and other toiletries back to their original places before I showering and jumping straight into bed. 

I had the blankets pulled right up under my chin as my eyes slowly fluttered closed. At this exact point in time, I was so ready to just drift off to sleep. 

That was, until I heard my phone vibrating on the bedside table. I rolled over onto my side as I let out a light groan, reaching up with one hand to grab my phone as the other rubbed at my eyes. I swiped my thumb across to answer the call without even checking the name. But I knew it was Harry. He said he would call in the morning. I was glad he’d called now though, in a way. It felt strange to be alone. 

"Hello?" I spoke lightly, pressing my phone to my ear as I let out a yawn. "Harry? What's up?" I asked. 

"Ivy." His voice came through the phone loud and clear. It was him. Patrick.


	14. Feeling Oh So Far From Home

I sat up in bed, noticing my free hand was shaking. 

‘P-Patrick?’ my voice cracked as I said his name. He was drunk, as usual, and probably with Jessica. All things considered, I couldn’t understand why he’d be calling me at all, much less at this hour. 

‘You stupid, stupid bitch!’ Patrick slurred. ‘Who do you think you are, taking another man on MY honeymoon, which I paid for?!’ He hiccupped a few times at the end of his speech, and I sighed. 

‘It was my honeymoon too, you jackass,’ I pointed out. ‘I suppose you think it would’ve been totally fine for you to take Jessica in my place?!’ 

‘Course it would’ve;’ he replied nonchalantly. I rolled my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself quiet. 

‘What do you want, Patrick?’ I asked. I didn’t really care why he’d called, but I was getting mad he’d kept me from sleeping. 

‘You don’t really expect me to pay for your little trip, do you?’ He demanded. ‘You enjoyed it, you don’t deserve it whatsoever; you and your little boy toy can fit the bill.’ 

‘Would you be insisting Jessica pay for herself too?’ I asked. ‘You paid for my trip, not hers, after all.’ 

Patrick avoided answering my question, with yet more insistences that I owed him money. This went on for another twenty minutes before I’d had enough and ended the call. 

I settled back into my bed and exhaled slowly. My head was swimming as I tried to process Patrick’s behaviour. Unable to calm myself down, I pulled on a pair of slippers and my dressing gown, before heading to the kitchen. As little more than reflex, I switched on the kettle, and minutes later, I sipped deeply from my mug, not having realised until now how desperate I was for a caffeine hit.


	15. Says I Remind Her Of Home

An hour and a half had passed since my conversation with Patrick. I weighed up my options. I had one of two that I could go with. Do I tell Harry that Patrick had contacted me, potentially worrying Harry; or, do I keep it from him knowing that this was just a one off. 

Unable to get to sleep, I was currently curled up on the couch, with the TV on playing reruns of Friends. I paid no attention to it due to being focused on my thoughts. Suddenly, I was startled by the loud knocking sounds that came from the front door, and torn away from my thoughts. This meant only one thing. Patrick. 

Knowing that it was just Patrick outside, I chose to ignore it. If I acted as if I were asleep, or better yet; not home, he'd go away. I couldn't help but let out a deep sigh as I muted the TV and relaxed back against the couch, making myself comfortable, seeing as I had no reason to get up anytime soon. 

My relaxation lasted a whole minute, before a text came through on my phone. Harry's name flashed along my screen. What was Harry doing up at this time? Quickly typing in my password to unlock my phone, I immediately clicked on Harry's message to read over it. 'Ivy, hey. It's cold out. Please let me in.' It took me a few minutes to process that Harry was out the front, and not Patrick. 

Relief rushed over me, and I found myself jumping up off the couch to rush over towards the door. Pulling the door open, I revealed Harry standing there on my porch in black jeans and a dark brown coat, with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. 

"Jesus, Ivyanna." Harry scolded me after I had stepped to the side to allow him to step into the house. 

"I'm sorry, Harry." I replied back right away, apologising for having left him out in the cold. I had no idea Harry would come by through the early hours of the morning. I hadn’t told Harry about the call, so I was curious as to why he had come 'round. "I didn't know you were at the door,’’ I explained sheepishly. ‘’Is everything okay?" 

I glanced over in Harry's direction to notice that he was biting down on his lower lip. I had learnt while we were away, that Harry only ever did that out of nervousness. But why was Harry nervous? It didn't take him long to guide me over to the kitchen, telling me to take a seat as he focussed on making the both of us a cup of tea. 

"So..." I heard him speak quietly, carefully pushing the mug over to me. I made sure to thank him right before he took a long sip from his own mug, and then set it down to speak again. "I saw Patrick." He paused. "I was at the pub picking up the jacket I’d left behind after my last performance,’’ he continued. “Patrick was there. He didn't see me. But I heard him on the phone to you.” His teeth sank into his lower lip again, before he took another long sip from his mug. “I heard how rude he was, and wanted to make sure that you were alright." 

I should have known that Harry would find out one way or another. It's not that I didn't trust Harry, or that I didn't want to tell him myself; because I did want to. I just didn't want to have him caught up in my dramas. But it was way too late for that, wasn't it? 

"Are you okay, Ivy?" Harry repeated a while, after receiving no response. 

I wanted to tell Harry that I was scared. Frightened of Patrick and the things that he could do. Fearful of the words he spoke. The conversation with Patrick played on my mind twice more. 

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder and had my body pulled into Harry’s. One of the nice things about Harry, was that I didn't have to say anything for him to know how to fix whatever was bothering me. He just acted, and he did so perfectly. 

"Look, Ivy." I heard Harry speak calmly with a deep raspy tone. His voice was sweet and gentle, something that I had come to love. It was a huge contrast to Patrick's, which was always rough and filled with anger. They were complete opposites. The pad of Harry's index finger rubbed over my skin in a soothing motion. Harry always knew how to keep me calm. "Everything's going to be okay." He promised, taking a short breath before he finished off, as if he knew I would have questioned him if he hadn't. "I'll sort Patrick out. Don't worry. I've got this." 

I had no doubt in him and knew that Harry always followed through with his promises. He wasn't going to let me down. With anything. 

"Harry!" I exclaimed, as he carefully threw me over his shoulder. I hit him twice with my hands and nudged him lightly in the stomach with my foot in protest. "Come on, Harold Edward Styles!" I whined. 

"Ivyanna why-don't-I-get-to-know-your-middle-name Edwards. No, I will not put you down," he replied with a laugh. He was being serious about the middle name thing, though. I found out Harry's middle name while we were away. It was just one of those random facts that he shared with me. 

Harry made his way down the hallway of my small house, carrying me over his shoulder the entire time until he turned into my bedroom. I couldn't quite see what he was doing, but I had a feeling he was pulling back the covers to put me to bed, and sure enough my instinct proved to be right when he set me down on bed under the blankets. 

"Goodnight, Ivy," came his words as the curly haired brunette male tucked me into bed, leaning over to kiss the top of my forehead. "Get some sleep, beautiful." He whispered. 

I couldn't help but admire how precious Harry truly was. How sweet and caring this man was. And how beautiful he appeared to be. I was in awe. In such a short amount of time I had come to adore the male and didn't want him to go just yet. 

"Harry?" I called out in a soft murmur. He hadn't left the room and was still here with me, that was something I knew before even having heard him speak. 

"Yes, love?" He asked. I wasn't looking directly at him, but I knew that he was focussed on me. 

"Will you stay with me?" I asked. 

Harry didn't answer. Instead; he slipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around my waist, before pulling me into his chest. Letting my own arms slip around his strong waist, I buried my face in his chest and let my eyes fall shut as I smiled warmly to myself; enjoying the way that it felt to be protected by Harry. I took my time to take in his scent. For such a stunning man, he smelt undeniably irresitible.


	16. None Of Your Buisness

9am came and I stirred in bed, tossing and turning as I rolled around trying to regain my comfortable position, it was no use. Letting out a small whine I rubbed at my eyes, ending up opening them to notice that I was alone in the room. I could have sworn that Harry stayed last night. I knew that I wasn't imagining things, and came to the conclusion that Harry had errands to run. Being the gentleman that he is he would never wake a sleeping person. Taking the time to sit up in bed, raising my hands up above my head to stretch them, came a loud banging sound from the kitchen that was closely followed by a line of curse words. Knowing that Harry hadn't left and was still hanging around the place I forced myself out of bed, grabbing the jumper from the floor and pulled it on over my shirt. The jumper was long and covered my shorts making it seem like a dress. 

"I stay one night and already you're stealing my clothes?" Harry teased as soon as he saw me. I figured he meant that the jumper I had on was his I hadn't even realised until he pointed it out. I went to take it off but Harry stopped me with the words that he spoke. "It looks good on you. Anyway. Good morning, Ivy. I made breakfast." I hadn't even noticed that Harry had made us bacon and eggs for breakfast until he mentioned it. I should have realised by the beautiful smell in the air. This wasn't a gesture that Patrick had ever done. This was something I wasn't used to. 

"Good morning, Harry." I chimed in, pulling up a seat at the counter to sit beside him, looking over at him with a warm smile resting on my lips. "Thank you. For everything." I spoke shyly. Feeling a deep blush coat its way onto my cheeks. 

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't make myself useful and make breakfast." He pointed out. Harry began to take spoonsful of his food stopping every few moments to speak. 

"Patrick never did." I reminded him, gently nudging his side with my elbow as I began to eat the food I had set out in front of me. I automatically complimented him on his beautiful cooking skills right after my first mouthful. 

"Patrick's no gentleman, Ivy." Harry pointed out. I thanked Harry several more time for having made breakfast without having been asked. Also complimenting him each time on his cooking abilities. Harry stayed for an hour most after breakfast before informing me that he had errands to run. I wasn't mad at Harry for having to leave so soon as I would have had to leave for work at some point anyway. 

I dropped my bag at my desk, sighed, and settled into the all-too-familiar office chair. Already, there was a gigantic pile of paperwork on my desk, waiting to be done. It was almost as if nobody else had done any work whilst I’d been away, and it had all just been left for me to do on my return. I can’t say I’m surprised though, really. I pressed my fingers to my temples and took a deep breath. Someone cleared their throat at my door, and I rolled my eyes before turning to address my colleague. 

‘So?’ She pressed. ‘How was the wedding? The honeymoon? Are you knocked up yet?’ I had to laugh, I couldn’t help myself. 

‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ I began finally; ‘but it turns out Patrick was cheating on me, with the woman he made me use as my Maid of Honour.’ My colleague’s jaw dropped, and I almost had to laugh again at how invested she was in the drama, for someone who, up to now, had never said more than three words to me at once. ‘This all came out at the wedding, before we exchanged vows,’ I continued; ‘so there wasn’t a wedding, really.’ My colleague tried to flash me a look of sympathy; or at least, I think that’s what it was, anyway. ‘The honeymoon was spectacular, though,’ I added. ‘I took the Best Man, who is actually the one who told me Patrick was cheating on me.’ My colleague’s face lit up, and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip to keep myself from reacting. Once I’d composed myself, I answered her final question. ‘I’m not knocked up, the Best Man & I have only known each other two months or so.’ And with that, my colleague left, obviously having got what she wanted. Finally, being left on my own, I turned back to my desk with a groan. This was going to be a long day, and I was far from in the mood. 

By about half passed three, I was most of the way through the paperwork, and, thankfully, I had been left undisturbed. That is, until there was another knock at my door. I turned away from my desk, both grateful for a reason to take a break, and annoyed that whoever was at the door probably just wanted me to gossip with them about the wedding fiasco. Needless to say; I was surprised to come face to face with a delivery driver. ‘Miss Edwards?’ He clarified. I hummed in response, getting to my feet. The man handed me a long white box, with a length of deep purple ribbon tied round it in a bow. Surprised, I took the package, signed to say I’d received it, and thanked the driver. Who grunted in response and left. 

It was then, as I sat back down at my desk, that I noticed the envelope that had been tucked behind the ribbon. I pulled carefully at the bow, and it fell apart, revealing the envelope completely ‘Miss Edwards’ had been scrawled over the front, along with the address of the business. I opened the envelope to find a card, which read; ‘Hope your first day back isn’t too miserable, love. Join me for dinner? Call me when you finish. – H.’ I was flattered Harry had been so thoughtful, and it took me a minute to realise I’d not even opened the package he’d sent. Carefully pulling the lid off the box, I found that it contained a bunch of blue and purple orchids, and gasped. I couldn’t believe he’d remembered, I’d wanted to use these at the wedding. Before I could stop myself, I was sobbing and reaching for my phone. 

He picked up immediately. ‘Are you alright?’ He demanded. 

‘Oh Harry,’ I sniffled, ‘you didn’t have to do that.’ 

Harry joined the dots, realising I was crying happy tears over the flowers, and when he replied, his voice had softened. ‘You deserve them, love.’ He told me. ‘Do you like them?’ He wondered. 

‘You’re too good to me, Harry,’ I was laughing now, and the tears had stopped. ‘They’re beautiful,’ I added. ‘Thank you so much.’ 

‘You should go,’ he told me, ‘I don’t want to get you in trouble.’ I wanted to protest, and suddenly I found myself wishing I could’ve spent today with Harry. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realise he’d ended the call until I was pulled back to reality when my phone vibrated. I’d received a text from Harry. ‘I’ll call you after six,’ it read.


	17. Take You Home To Mother

As promised, Harry called me one minute after six. I had only just gotten off work; and, having left my office, I made my way straight down the long narrow hallway that led right to the elevator, stopping to push the button, I found myself waiting the few short moments that it took for the elevator to reach the level I was currently on. I patiently waited for the double doors to open before I stepped through, pressing the carpark button. Automatically, the doors took it upon themselves to close behind me before the lift dropped straight down to the carpark. Thankfully, there wasn't too many levels in the building, so, the ride never took too long unless you had to stop off on every single level. That's the way it was today. I stepped back into the corner to allow more people to fill the space of the elevator. By this point, the elevator was packed and I was thankful that we were only a level away from the carpark. A chiming sound was made before the doors opened, and the row of people at the front piled out. As I went to step out into the open air, I took in a deep breath before exhaling as I made my way over to my car, reaching a hand into my pocket to dig around for my keys. I unlocked my car, opening the back door to set my folder of paperwork on the back seat. 

A soft laugh filled my ears and I knew instantly who it belonged to. 

'Ivyanna.' He chimed in a gentle tone, his words being followed by another soft laugh. 'We won't be taking your car, love.' I sent Harry a look of confusion which caused him to carry on. 'I made other plans.' Before I could object, Harry had climbed out of my car and was holding my door open, waiting for me to join him. 

'I can't just leave my car here, Harry,' I pointed out. 

'I know love,' he assured me, 'just trust me.' I took Harry's outstretched hand, and, once I was out of my car, I let Harry lead the way. We stopped at a car parked down the block from my work premises. It wasn't Harry's. He knocked politely on the window, and a woman climbed out of the car. Even in the fading light, I could see her smile was warm and genuine, just like Harry's. 'Ivyanna, love, this is my mother, Anne,' Harry explained. He turned to his mother, and cleared his throat. 'Mum, I'd like you to meet the lovely Miss Ivyanna Edwards.' Anne pulled me into a hug and told me how nice it was to meet me. I told her the same. 'Mum's going to drive your car back to my place,' he explained.

'Harry!' Anne objected. 'You can't just expect to tell someone something like that and for them to 

be alright with it.'

'I don't mind,' I piped up. 'It's fine with me as long as you don't mind.' I added.

'I wouldn't be here if it were a problem, darling.' Anne pointed out.

'What about your car?' I asked Anne, pausing my search for my car keys.

'Mum will stay at my place tonight,' Harry explained, 'her car will be alright here for the night, and I'll drive her back in the morning after I drop you off at work.' Harry fished my keys from my bag and handed them to his mother. Before I could ask one of the many questions I had, or even thank Anne and say goodbye, Harry had whisked me away in the opposite direction, only pausing when his phone began to ring. He excused himself to answer the call. Harry returned to me minutes later, sliding a hand back through his long, dark curls. 'Shall we?' He proposed, offering me his arm. I blushed, taken aback once again by his chivalry, a virtue Patrick had never exercised, particularly in my favour.

We walked for a few minutes, and found ourselves in the carpark of a small local shopping strip. I raised an eyebrow at Harry quizzically; and he pointed to the corner of the block we'd walked towards. I saw nothing, initially; but the object Harry had obviously been waiting for appeared before I could make a comment. As the carriage pulled to a stop in front of us, all I could do was stare in awe.

'Styles?' the coachman verified. Harry nodded.

I turned to him in amazement. 'You didn't have to do this,' I told him, my voice barely audible.

'I know, love;' he assured me, reaching for my hand. 'I wanted to.'

'Why?' I wondered, tears welling in my eyes.

'I saw how much you were longing for a horse-drawn carriage to escort you to the wedding,' he told me. 'I was furious Patrick refused to give you something your heart desired so much,' he went on; 'so I vowed I would do anything in my power to give it to you.'

Harry climbed up into the carriage, then, before turning and offering me his hands. As the coachman lead the carriage around town, Harry and I talked and laughed. It was nice to enjoy someone's company as purely as I enjoyed Harry's. I couldn't remember the last time socialising had been this effortless. I didn't realise we'd come to a halt until Harry got to his feet. 'I'll be right back,' he assured me.

Harry returned a few minutes later, a plastic bag in hand. As the carriage began to move again, he pulled a container from the bag and handed it to me. I looked down to find a note attached to the lid, which read: 'You deserve this,' in the handwriting I'd come to recognise all too well.


	18. Treat You Like A Gentleman

"Harry." I started out, lost for words, my jaw dropped at the sight of the Indian foods he ordered the two of us. "You are too good to me." I easily pointed out. That much I knew was true. The way Harry treats me is clear to me that any girl would be more than lucky to be treated such way. Knowing that I had the privilege of being treated this way by him made me entirely grateful to have such a gentleman as a close friend. "Thank you, really, thank you, Harry." Came my words again. Tears of joy falling from my eyes as I found myself slipping my arms loosely around Harry's waist as a kind gesture to hug him. 

"Ivy, love," came Harry's words as he let out a light chuckle, “don’t cry,” he muttered, letting his own arms wrap securely around my waist as he returned the hug. The night consisted of Harry and I roaming through the main streets of Holmes Chapel, admiring each place that we drove by knowing that each building held its own unique story to tell. I don't recall how many times I thanked Harry but I knew that I had way too many times. Everything seemed so surreal. This wasn't a way that I was used to feeling. Everything with Harry was so easy. I knew that I could tell him things, I could tell him anything, and knew that whether he agreed with me or not he would never judge me or put me down instead he would support my decision regardless of the way he felt. Since having known Harry it's been as through all the weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Before I knew it, the night was almost over and Harry had kindly invited me back to his place for a movie marathon. Neither of us had work the following morning, so, I had no issue in accepting the kind offer that he had provided me with. Harry and I arrived back at his place just before 10;30pm - the horse carriage having dropped us off right outside the front of Harry's house. Due to the fact that we arrived back so late was the best reason as to why it was so dark out, that and the fact that Harry had forgotten to leave his porch light on. As I placed my foot up onto the first small step I felt Harry's hand take a hold on my own causing a warm smile to tug on the corner of my lips as his fingers intertwined with mine. I found myself thankful for the darkness the exact moment my cheeks heated up and began to turn a deep shade of red. Harry's hand was warm and made me feel at home and as if he knew he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. I didn't mind though. 

"Come on, love." I heard Harry's husky voice speak his words directly into my ear as if I had fallen into a daydream. 

Letting my head tilt back as I glanced up at Harry to see the beautiful man standing before me with his free hand outstretched, holding the door wide open for me, helping me up into the house as I thanked him on his politeness. Harry pulled the door shut behind himself then disappeared off into the kitchen leaving me alone in hallway as I slipped off my shoes by the front door, sliding my arms out of my coat before I hung it up on the coat rack. Knowing what Harry was up to in the kitchen I kept myself busy by scanning over the numerous amounts of photos that were set out on display. I hadn't even realised that I had entered the living room until my eyes landed on the large fireplace that had several photo frames resting along the counter. It being the silver frame with a photo of Harry, Anne and a woman that looked awfully a lot like Harry, that caught my attention. 

"That's Gemma." Harry's deep husky voice commented the moment I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. "My sister. In case you were wondering." He added in before giving me the chance to explain. 

"She looks a lot like you." Was all that I could make out. 

"Yeah." I heard Harry agree. His head nodded once before he went on to continue. "But I'm the better Styles." 

Harry and I settled on watching John Green's film 'The Fault In Our Stars’ together, having already watched Jojo Moyes’ film 'Me Before You'. By this point of time we had managed to polish off two full bowls of popcorn and two cups of tea each along with the hot chocolates that Harry made us the very moment we arrived back at his place. On several occasions throughout both movies I found myself catching a glance of Harry. The sight of him caused a smile to appear on my face. I couldn't help but cuddle deep into his chest, hiding from the embarrassment I felt the moment Harry caught me staring at him for too long. 

"You're beautiful, Ivyanna." I heard Harry speak in his soft voice as he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I adore you." He informed me. And before I knew it, without even having been given a chance to say anything, I felt Harry's lips pressed firmly against my own. Giving into temptation, I began to move my own lips slowly against his as I kissed back gently. It felt like forever before I felt Harry pull away leaving me craving more of his touch and as if he knew just what I wanted he planted one last kiss against my lips only to pull away once more, ending up pressing his lips to the top of my forehead, leaving me completely breathless and lost for words. I knew that Harry didn't intend to fall asleep on the couch, but seeing as though he was tired and extremely comfortable he was in no position to move anytime soon resulting in him falling asleep with me cuddled up in his arms. I stayed up for over an hour after Harry had already fallen asleep. I was wide awake due to the constant thoughts of Harry that filled my mind, and the butterflies in my stomach. I knew that the way I felt for Harry wasn't a way I had known myself to feel for another ever before. The way that Harry treated me wasn't something that I was used to. It definitely wasn't a way that anyone had treated me before. Harry is too good to be true. I couldn't get enough of him. 

"Yes, Gemma. The two of them look incredibly adorable cuddled up together on the couch." I heard a female's voice speak softly, as if not wanting to wake anyone. "Of course, I'll send you a photo." She spoke again. And it was in that exact moment that a flash went off, that I realised Harry's Mum had spent the night. How had this managed to slip my mind? I felt rather embarrassed that Anne had caught Harry and I sleeping together. 


	19. Oh, Tell Me Something I Don't Already Know

It wasn't until I knew that Harry had been awake for a good 15 minutes before I pretend that I had only just woken up. I didn't even have to do any kind of convincing; Harry and Anne never once thought otherwise. 

"Hey, so, whilst you were sleeping. I was on the phone to Gemma." He began to explain, stopping to pause as if he wanted to ensure that he had my full attention before he proceeded. "Gemma decided that she's catching the very first flight Tuesday morning from London just to meet you." 

"Are you sure she's not too busy?" I asked. I didn't want to sound ungrateful or make it out as if I didn't want to meet her, because in actual fact I do. "You've mentioned her busy schedule before. I wouldn't want her to feel as though she should rush out here if she's got things going on there." I explained. 

"If she were too busy with work she wouldn't have come up with the idea, love." Harry assured me, resting his hands over my shoulders then rubbed gently over them in a relaxing and soothing massage kind of way. "Gemma wants to meet you Ivy. Don't stress." He spoke once more only this time pressing a small kiss to the top of my forehead. 

With today being Saturday morning, this only left me with 3 full days until I was due to meet Gemma. I spent the morning listening to stories that Anne had to share about both Harry and Gemma, coming to the conclusion from the things that I had learnt that Gemma always treated everyone with kindness. A lot like Harry. This being something the two of them shared. Somehow, I couldn't help but feel nervous. What if she didn't like me? This is Harry's sister we're talking about. This is a huge deal. What if she didn't like me she could quite easily convince Harry that I wasn't worthy of his friendship. She wouldn't do that, would she? Hearing the stories that Anne had to tell helped put me at ease, I couldn't be more thankful for her right now. Anne is a true blessing. 

As the day went on, Anne's stories continued as did Harry's tea making skills. I learnt of the time when Harry was five - he refused to clean his room, ending up writing a note to Anne stating that if she made him clean his room he would no longer love her. This very story causing a light giggle to fall from my lips. The same year Harry wrote a letter to Gemma after the two got into an argument of some kind. Anne showed me a photo of the letter, reading, 'I'm angry at you and I'm not talking to you today and tomorrow. P.S all day. P.P.S I still love you.' From this I gained the impression that Gemma means a lot to Harry. Something of which I quite admired. 

Anne told me of her true favourite letter that she had ever received from Harry. Informing me that to this day she still has it. Even insisted on showing me the photo that she had taken of it on her phone. The letter reading, 'Dear Mum, you are my favourite mommy ever. I'm sorry for calling you a piece of poo. And telling you I hate you, and that I’m not going to clean my room. I love you.' I couldn't stop the faint giggle that had fallen from my lips. Both notes were written with poor grammar, spelling mistakes all over the place, but it was Harry. 

As the day progressed I learnt things about Harry that I never knew before. Things that I never could have learnt from Harry. I felt grateful for Anne's presence and was gracious that she had stayed the night and insisted on spending the day with Harry and I. I wasn't surprised by the hospitality skills that Anne had raised Harry with, by tending to this, Harry brought out several sandwiches and snacks for us all to munch on, so that we wouldn't wither away to nothing. The way Anne had raised Harry was unlike any other. She raised him to be a true gentleman. A gentleman which she would be proud of. 

They spoke of music; telling me all about Harry's music background and how he could sing before he could talk. I knew that Harry had been busking from such a young age, Harry told me this himself, though, hearing Anne tell me the same thing made my heart ache. "When Harry was eleven. He would head down to the local pub, be there by 10am each weekend, performing right up until 4pm." Anne informed me. The smile coating her lips was wide and just showed how genuinely proud she is of her son. 

"Did he ever miss a show?" I found myself asking. Curious to learn more about Harry, and taking this as my opportunity to do just that. 

"No, never." Anne confirmed. "Not one." The smile on her face growing wider with each story that she told. "There was a time that Harry was sick. I told him to say in bed and assured him that the community would understand if he couldn't make it. With Harry being the person that he is, he stumbled out of bed, sick and all, pulled on a large coat and away he went." With all the stories that I had been kindly provided with along with a couple of baby photos that Anne had to show, it warmed my heart causing me to smile wide. Once that came to an end and Anne was finished with her story telling I couldn't wipe the smile from my face. As 6:30pm dawned on us, the three of us moved on over towards the kitchen, I sat on a bench stool seated beside Anne as Harry assured us that there was nothing he needed us to do besides relax. 

"So, Mum, any time after dinner I can drive you back to Ivy's work to collect your car." Harry spoke softly. I could tell that Anne's company was something Harry enjoyed, something that he wasn't always given enough of when it came to their busy work schedules. 

"Thank you, Harry. That would be very much appreciated." She responded, beaming a wide smile up at her son. 

Anne and I talked amongst ourselves trying to give Harry the concentration anyone should have in the kitchen. Harry knew exactly what he was doing. A true master chef within his own home. For dinner, Harry served us spaghetti and meatballs, a dish he knew everyone adored. Once the three of us had polished off our food, I cleared our plates, taking them over to the sink in the kitchen to be washed. Proceeding on washing the plates before I had used a tea towel to dry them then set them back in place in the cupboard, using the same procedure on the cutlery and pots and pan. Just after 9pm I thanked Harry for our night out, our movie marathon and for letting me stay the night before moving on to thank him for his gracious presence and hospitality skills and for the dinner that he had beautifully prepared. It took a lot for Harry to convince me that Anne was upstairs in the guest room and not hiding out downstairs spying on us. 

"Again. Thank you, Harry." I commented. Pressing my hands to Harry's chest as his larger ones rested against my waist as he held me close. His body heat providing the main source of my warmth. 

"Spending time with you is something that I love most in the world, Ivy." I heard Harry reply. His words being spoken in that thick raspy voice that I had come to love. "Text me when you get home, so I know you're safe." He added. 

It was dark out, so, I couldn't make out much of the scenery that was surrounding us and couldn't be sure that everything I thought was happening was real. I felt a hand reach up and twist strands of my hair around the finger; knowing that this was such a Harry move. Before I could even process what was happening, I felt a pair of soft plump lips against my own and as I fluttered my eyes shut I gave into temptation, parting my lips just enough to kiss Harry back gently.


	20. Hope You're Wearing Your Best Clothes

Harry was preoccupied with work purposes which meant that I hadn't had the chance to catch up with him since having been caught out by Anne cuddled up on the couch with Harry. Today is the day I'm expected to meet Gemma - my nerves are running high. I found myself constantly being led astray with endless thoughts of Gemma flowing through my mind. My major worry being what if she didn't like me? What would I do then? Due to my mind constantly wandering off elsewhere other than my work I barely got any of it done and knew that in the days to come I would have to catch up on it so that I didn't fall further behind. 

Just after 6pm I pulled up into the driveway of my home, shutting off the engine before I slipped out, locking the vehicle as I made my way up the steps of my home. Only to walk through the front door a few moments later, heading straight for my bedroom to get ready. The arrangement we agreed on was that Harry would pick me up at 7. Everything after that we hadn't discussed. All I was told was that I should dress prepared for anything. I wasn't entirely sure what Harry meant by that, with Harry, it could mean literally anything. Somehow, I decided on wearing a medium length black dress, that was fairly simple yet elegant at the same time. Appropriate for all occasions. I didn't have much time left to do anything highly productive with my hair, so, I just left it out, knowing that leaving your hair out could be pulled off with all outfits. 

Harry was always early. Although I witnessed him pull up 10 minutes earlier he waited all of those minutes that he had until 7pm, climbing out of the car to make his way towards my front door before he knocked on the door right on 7pm. Descending from the staircase I headed straight towards the front door with my silver clutch bag that contained my phone, keys and credit card. As soon as I pulled open the door - a sudden whoosh of cold air surrounded me within a matter of seconds.

"You look absolutely stunning tonight, Ivyanna, as always." Harry complimented me, slipping his arms around me as he pulled my body closer towards his to embrace me in a warm hug. Harry placed a small kiss against my lips before he left another against the top of my forehead. 

"Thank you, Harry." I replied back just as I felt my cheeks begin to heat up at the compliment I had received. "You look incredibly stunning." I added, taking a moment to glance over the orange coloured suit that Harry had on with an unusual pattern down the bottom of one arm and a plain black shirt underneath. Only Harry could pull off wearing various different coloured and styled suits. 

"Shall we?" Harry asked, outstanding a hand as he raised the both of his brows up at me. 

"Of course, we shall." I agreed with a small nod just as I looped my arm in and around Harry's that he had kindly offered out. I had barely paid attention to the limo that Harry had showed up in, not until he pulled open the door, stepping aside and waiting patiently for me to climb in before he had followed in behind.

"Harry." I spoke softly, sitting down and relaxing against the seat. "You know you shouldn't have. You didn't have to." 

"I wanted to." He admitted, taking the seat beside me then closed the door and turned his attention towards the driver. I didn't pay much attention to what Harry was actually saying to him until Harry had nudged my side gently, gaining my attention immediately. "You like horses, right?" He asked curiously with an eyebrow raised. 

Was this a trick question? Was he testing me? "Of course." I replied, nodding my head slowly before I continued with what I had been saying. "Who doesn't? Horses are sweet creatures." I wasn't sure what Harry had meant, ending up being confused the moment that Harry let out a soft laugh, only to demand that the driver went ahead with their original plans they had made. Were we going horse riding? Would I have to ride in a dress? It wasn't until now that I knew I was not prepared for all occasions. As soon as the limo began rolling I knew that we were setting out on our journey and whatever it was that Harry had planned. Music began blasting out of the speakers, I listened along to the song that played, not actually knowing what was being played. 

"That's the way it's gonna be little darlin'." I heard Harry sing softly beside me, grinning wide throughout the process. "We'll be riding on the horses, yeah yeah." He continued on, far too into the song to stop. "Cause way up in the sky little darlin'. And if you fall I'll pick you up, pick you up." It was then that I realised what Harry truly meant. He didn't ask because we would be riding horses, that wasn't the plan - far from it. All along Harry had been referring to the song. 

"God. You're obsessed." I replied, letting out a loud laugh as I gave his shoulder a gentle shove.


	21. You'll Never Know What You Do To Me

I began to feel sick to my stomach as my nerves ran high, waiting out the front of the restaurant that Harry had thoughtful picked out, we were lounging out in the limo as we awaited Anne and Gemma's arrival. It's not that Harry's immediate family had stood us up because they hadn't. Harry and I were just running early. This was a common habit of Harry's. I focused more on my nerves and trying to settle them than paying attention to the conversation that Harry and the limo driver, Dennis, were engaged in. 

"Thank you, Dennis, you're a lovely man." I was caught off guard by Harry thanking him, I wasn't too sure what he had thanked him for, but knowing Harry it could have been anything or simply nothing at all. "And that's the way it's gonna be little darlin'. We'll go riding on the horses, yeah, yeah. Way up in the sky little darlin'. And if you fall I'll pick you up, pick you up." Harry began to sing the chorus of his newly found song that he had grown an attachment towards. I couldn't stop myself from letting out a loud laugh, feeling somewhat better due to Harry's dorkiness, and shook my head as I rolled my eyes during the process. At some point Harry must have caught on, concluding that I had a hatred for Horses. "Oh. Not into Horses?" Harry asked, shifting in the leather seat within the long stretch limo, so that he was facing me. When I remained silent, he repeated himself, asking the question once more. "Not into Horses?" 

I remained quiet for a few short seconds and just shrugged my shoulders as Harry glanced back at me. I wasn't sure what I could say without hurting or upsetting his feelings. "You're obsessed, H." I joked lightly through a fit fill of laughter and giggles. 

"I've done it enough." Came Harry's voice, speaking in a joking manner as his words come out soft and gentle. "Alright. Okay. Alright." He spoke, stopping to take a breath before focusing purely on my big brown eyes. "Out. That way. Out." He teased, pointing his hand out towards the door as if he were truly signalling for me to leave. I didn't move a muscle or mutter a word. "I'm joking," he assured me right before he went on. "Treat people with kindness and all that." The way that Harry was messing around helped put my nerves at ease. I was still feeling nervous about meeting Gemma and had that what if she didn't like me typed gut feeling but with the way that Harry was playing around, it gave my mind something else to think about, I was thankful for Harry in this very moment. "You can stay." The curly haired brunette male had decided, though, it wasn't something he took too long on deciding. "You're allowed an opinion that's no problem, but, if you talk dirt on Daryl Braithwaite one more time you're out." He warned me. 

I turned my head to the side the very moment Harry had glanced over in my direction, which meant I ended up locking eyes with Harry's beautiful green eyes. We stared at one another for a few minutes before Harry broke the eye contact along with the silence, to joke around once more. Perhaps he knew how I was feeling and was just giving my mind other things to stay occupied with. "So, seeing as though we're not allowed to sing horses anymore we're gonna have to find something else to do." Harry teased, giving my arm a gentle nudge, and pressed a gentle kiss against the top of my forehead causing my cheeks to heat up. 

Harry’s eyes lit up and he grinned like a Cheshire cat. Before I could question him, there was a knock on the window of the limo behind my head, and I jumped in fright. Harry reached for my hand and squeezed it gently, chuckling. ‘It’s alright, love,’ he assured me. ‘It’s only mum.’ I felt the heat and colour return to my cheeks as my heart dropped. If that was Anne, Gemma was here too, and they’d both seen me make a fool of myself. So much for making a good first impression. ‘Just be your wonderful self, my gorgeous girl,’ Harry insisted. The way Harry spoke to me left me breathless. It was something I’d never experienced with Patrick, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to it. With that, he opened his door and climbed out of the limo. I moved to follow him, and he shook his head, shutting the door behind himself once he’d made sure he wouldn’t hurt me if he did so. Taking advantage of a moment alone, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. I watched Harry interact with Anne and Gemma, admiring how much they meant to him as they all exchanged hugs. Harry’s laughter rang out into the night air. I couldn’t really make sense of the conversation, still being in the limo. 

I wanted to be relieved as Harry reached for the door handle, I really did. Instead, I was overcome with panic. Harry bent into the limo and offered me his arm. I let him guide me to my feet and shut the door behind us. As Dennis drove away, Harry shifted so his arm was around my waist. I couldn’t help but notice the smile on his face. It was as if he was genuinely excited to show me off to his family, and, dare I even think it, he might have been proud of me. Again, I’d never experienced this with Patrick. I was pulled from my thoughts as Anne stepped forward and pulled me into a warm embrace. ‘So good to see you again, Ivyanna, dear,’ she gushed. ‘You look fabulous,’ she added. My heart swelled with joy as I realised how it felt to be accepted by the family of a friend. I was then hit with the realisation that I hoped Harry and I would be more than that, especially if Anne had taken such a shine to me. I’d never had a great relationship with Angela, and Patrick had no other family besides her, so having Harry’s mum, at least appear to like me, was strange, but it made me feel good. At this point, Harry squeezed my hand, and I realised I’d never replied to Anne. 

‘It’s nice to see you again as well,’ I told her. ‘Sorry,’ I added. ‘My mind wandered off to something that happened at work.’ Anne and I chatted briefly about my job while Harry and Gemma caught up amongst themselves. As the four of us spoke, we headed into the restaurant to get out of the cold. Harry’s arm left my waist only so that he could hold the door open for the rest of us. I insisted Anne and Gemma lead the way, and Harry waited for me to follow. We approached the seating host, and Harry stepped forward. ‘We have a reservation for four under Styles,’ he explained. The host nodded, and we followed him to our table. Harry pulled my chair out for me before taking his seat beside me. ‘You didn’t have to –‘ I told him quietly as I felt my cheeks heat up because of his gesture. I was cut off as Harry reached for my hand on top of the table and squeezed it gently. ‘Harry!’ I objected, mortified that he would show so much affection in public at all let alone in front of his family. His eyes lit up and Gemma chuckled. Having completely forgotten she was with us by this point, I jumped back from Harry as if his touch had electrocuted me. 

‘Your reaction only encourages him,’ Gemma explained. ‘He’s explained the whole Patrick fiasco to mum and I,’ she added; ‘so I totally understand that you’re not used to being with someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated, but Harry only wants the best for you.’ 

‘We all do, dear,’ Anne added. ‘You don’t have to hide anything around us’ she promised, looking from me to her son. ‘Just be happy, and enjoy the real experience of love.’

A.N; HARRY SUNG 'THE HORSES' AT LEAST FIVE TIMES AT OUR CONCERT, HONESTLY, WE COULDN'T HELP BUT MENTION IT SOMEWAY HERE AND THAT'S THE WAY IT'S GONNA BE LITTLE DARLIN'.


	22. I'll Be At The Door

IThe date ended up running smoothly, and I couldn't be happier with that. Harry was a true gentleman the whole night through, and I felt over the moon with how things were beginning to turn out for me; for us. Everything felt as though I were truly getting the happily ever after that I deserved. Harry and I were yet to put a label on anything, and I was more than okay with this; it wasn't something that we had discussed yet, we were just going with the flow, seeing where life took us. 

It was a little after 11pm. Anne and Gemma had bid their farewells to Harry and I just after 10:30pm. The plan was that Anne and Gemma would head back to Harry's place, as his house was where they were both staying whilst in Holmes Chapel. This gave Harry and I some time to spend together alone before he would drop me back at my house, and we would say our goodnights to one another before he would head back to his own place. Harry took me to his childhood hangout, a place that he would always go alone, unless of course he trusted someone enough to share his special place with them. I learned that I was in fact only the second person he had ever taken here with him. The first person being the girl he shared his first kiss with. I felt anxious having learned that, but I knew that had been years ago, he would have been twelve years old at the time. Butterflies fluttered within my stomach at the thought that Harry had such trust in me. Trust was something that I never felt with Patrick. I could trust Harry and I knew that he had trust in me. Everything was finally falling into place. 

As the limo, that Harry had kindly hired for the whole night, pulled up into the driveway of my house, I couldn't help but wonder when the next time I'd get to see Harry would be. I had hoped that I'd be blessed with the opportunity of seeing him again soon. Hopefully tomorrow. But. I knew that considering we've both got work, tomorrow held such low chances of that happening. I would happily settle for any time that I was given with Harry, and hoped that he too felt the same. 

"My lady." Harry commented. He had slipped out of the limo and was facing me with his hand outstretched for me to take a hold on. I did just as Harry had wanted and took a hold on his hand, instantly, I felt his fingers intertwining in with mine causing a wide smile to tug at the corners of my lips. 

"Thank you, H." I responded softly, allowing Harry to pull me out of the limo then guide me back on my own two feet. I hadn't moved a single step and Harry hadn't tried guiding me along the pathway of my front yard just yet. Knowing that he was up to something, I tilted my head up to meet his beautiful green eyes that were sparkling bright before me making those butterflies return to my stomach.

He had such an effect on me, and I wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that. My mind began to wander, only to be brought back to reality as I witnessed Harry's face inch closer to me. His hands were now resting against my hips, so I reached up and around his neck to keep my hands in place there. His green eyes fluttered closed, and, knowing what was going to happen next, I allowed my eyes to fall shut just as I felt his lips being pressed against my own. 

"Ivy." I heard a voice call out through a loud groan. 

It wasn't Harry. It was Patrick. I had no idea what he wanted but I knew that he was drunk.


	23. Take You Home

The moment we pulled apart and came to realise Patrick was waiting at my door, Harry reached down with his hand to take a hold on mine, and laced his fingers in against my own. I had no idea as to why Patrick, of all people would be here; but what I did know for sure was that Harry would never let him hurt me, not ever again. I had complete trust in the man that I had grown close to lately. This being something I never felt with Patrick.   
"What's he doing here?" Patrick spat as he stumbled to his feet, I knew that he was about to make his way down to us, and I knew that Harry sensed it too, using his tall frame to shield my much smaller one. 

"Harry belongs here." I replied and slowly guided the pad of my thumb in gentle rubs over and against Harry's hand in hopes of calming him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in encouragement. 

"What are you doing here is the real question." I added in. 

"Collecting what's mine." Patrick snapped, stumbling down off of the front porch, only to make his way closer towards Harry and I. 

"Ivy and I have plans for the evening. I insist you leave. You've no belongings left here." Harry chipped in calmly as he sent a glare in Patrick's direction. I got the impression that Harry had told Patrick a little white lie, considering he and I had just returned from our plans - our dinner out with his mum and sister. I was becoming increasingly aware that Harry only had one motive in mind - to send Patrick away. The words that he spoke only did the opposite; adding fuel to Patrick's temper. 

'That's mine,' Patrick hissed, pointing at me. I rolled my eyes and had no intention of responding. I was used to this; his words had stopped mattering to me a very long time ago. Harry, it appeared, had other ideas. I couldn't help flinching as Patrick stumbled and fell to his knees, continuing to crawl towards me. 

'How dare you?!' Harry's voice had an edge to it I'd not heard in it before. He'd moved now, abandoning my hand and standing between Patrick and I. His jaw had clenched, and even the minimal light coming from the porch, I noticed the veins in his neck had become more prominent against his skin. Patrick spat at Harry's feet, and for the first time since he'd shown up tonight, I was furious. 'What the hell are you gonna do about it?' Patrick demanded. 'You are nothing. It'd never lower its standards enough to be with someone like you,' he sneered. Harry laughed. He actually laughed. 

'You of all people should know Ivyanna has a name,' Harry pointed out. 'And whilst I agree that I am by absolutely no means deserving of her; I assure you I am much more capable of, and willing, to do anything that she so desires, than you ever were or will be.' Patrick made a grab for Harry's ankle then, but missed, and ended up face first in the gravel that made up my property's driveway. Harry and I both laughed at that. 'I'd say I'd be horrified if you spoke to and about your mother the way you do Miss Edwards,' Harry went on; 'but from what I remember of Angela, she's no better than you.' Patrick looked to have fallen asleep face first in the gravel at this point, but Harry wasn't finished with his lecture. 'How you treat people says more about you than it does them, Collins.' I hadn't noticed, but as Harry had been speaking, he was using his phone. I came to this realisation when a car pulled up out the front of my home. Harry was standing beside me now, an arm around my waist. Before I could ask, two Police officers left the car, and moved to collect Patrick from my premises. Once he was in the back seat of the car, one of the officers came over to Harry and I. 

'We'll need to take both of your details,' he explained; 'but what we'll do is enforce a restraining order against this man for you.' We stood with the officer for several minutes exchanging details. As the officers drove away, Harry walked me to my door. 

'I hope this isn't too forward, Ivy love,' Harry said quietly, reaching forward to slip a section of my hair behind my ear; 'but after what's happened just now, I really would feel better if you'd come spend the night at my place.' I unlocked my front door and Harry joined me inside. 

'Your mother and Gemma are at your house, H,' I pointed out. 'There's no room for me, and you really should spend some time with your family. I don't want to impose any more than I already have.' Harry sighed and moved to wrap his arms around me in a warm, comforting embrace. I sighed against his solid chest, letting my eyes close for a minute. That proved to be a bad idea, because next thing I know, I was sobbing uncontrollably into Harry's shirt. Harry's fingers wound into the ends of my hair, and he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Harry said nothing, just let me cry and held me as I did so - something Patrick had never done. Once I'd settled, Harry pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. 'I'm sorry,' I sniffled, drying my eyes. Harry cracked a smile and shook his head, kissing my forehead. 

'Don't worry about Mum and Gemma,' he assured me. 'They actually scolded me for not having arranged to take you back to my place while you had excused yourself to take that work call.' 

'Are you sure?' I asked him. He nodded. 

'I don't want to leave you here alone tonight, love,' his voice was gentle and I knew he was being sincere. I agreed to go with him, and fifteen minutes later I'd packed a bag. Harry drove my car back to his place, and we discovered that Anne and Gemma were still awake. 'Why don't you go have a shower, love?' Harry suggested. 'It'll relax you,' he added. 'I'll explain everything to Mum and Gemma.' I nodded and excused myself.


	24. We Haven't Spoke Since You Went Away

Having not been home by myself since the night Harry and I returned to a drunken Patrick at my door. Harry convinced me to stay at his place for the last week. Harry's company was something I highly enjoyed, but I was glad to be heading home, though I felt anxious as to what could await me. Pulling up into the driveway and shutting off my car engine, I unbuckled the seatbelt then slipped out of my car and reached around to retrieve the stack of paperwork on the backseat. Automatically my eyes scanned over to the porch and it was as if a wave of relief rushed over me from the realisation that Patrick wasn't waiting on me. That was one thing Harry worried most about. It took a lot for me to convince Harry that I'd be just fine at home by myself. After locking my car, I headed up the steps and walked across the porch heading for the front door, pausing to unlock the door before I pushed it open and stepped up into my home, ensuring that I securely locked the door behind myself. 

Discarding all of the paperwork that I had to go through, aside in the small study within my home, I made a mental note to finish everything off before bed. I began making my way over towards the kitchen to put the kettle on just as a knock came from the front door, causing me to let out a light groaning sound. Who on earth would be heading over at a time like this? For what?

I did my best to not to act annoyed at the fact that I had been interrupted at such a ridiculous time and pulled open the front door to be greeted by a hit of freshly cooked Chinese food and an overly excited curly haired brunette. "Harry?" I commented, speaking softly with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. 

"I come bearing gifts." Harry replied, lifting the bag of Chinese food up to my eyesight before he had stepped up into my home and headed straight for the kitchen. 

From the sound of cupboards opening within the kitchen, I knew that Harry was searching for plates, I wasn't too far behind him after having shut the door; then heading over to pull up a seat at the counter that Harry was serving fried rice out onto two separate plates. "Why did you come here anyway?" I asked politely curious as to why Harry had stopped by so late at night, although, I had a fair idea in mind.

"I wanted to tell you something..." He admitted just as he guided a plate over in my direction. His eyes focused everywhere that didn't include me.

"And that is?" I spoke up again, tilting my head back so that I could look over in Harry's direction, he didn't look up. 

"I don't remember. You should probably eat, you've barely eaten all day. He was right. I knew that Harry wasn't mentioning it in spite of the topic, given how busy I appeared at work, it was rare if I had the chance to eat anything at work. The plate was full of three of my favourite options: honey chicken, Mongolian beef and sweet & sour pork, along with fried rice. This proved how much Harry listened to the little things I told him. It hadn't occured to me how much something so small meant to me until it happened. I couldn't wipe the smile from my face. Over the moon with happiness. "What're you smiling about?" I heard Harry ask. He was always curious to know what I'd been smiling over. Having sat down in the seat beside me a while ago. 

"You." I replied back in a low sounding mumble hoping that he didn't hear. 

Harry and I sat in silence as we ate the Chinese food that he had kindly ordered us, I'd thanked him far too many times already. Each time he assured me that it was no trouble at all. Even telling me a few times that he hadn't had it in a while and wanted to surprise me with it as he knew I worked late and wouldn't have had the chance to cook anything by the time he had arrived. I found this to be a sweet gesture. With Harry anything was possible, and I knew that I should expect the unexpected with him. But. This wasn't something I had ever considered before. When I knew that the two of us had finished with our plates, I set out on washing them before drying both plates and discarding them back in place in the cupboard that Harry found them. During this time, Harry took it upon himself to make room in the fridge for the remainder of the food - not wanting any of it to go to waste. Somehow, managing to snuggle up on the couch, watching Finding Nemo, which Harry's choice of movie. I wasn't surprised by the fact that he had chosen such an old movie let alone one that was considered to be a children's movie. 

Harry and I never spoke of his true reasoning as to why he had come over, though, I knew that it had something to do with Patrick. He was terrified with the thought that Patrick would turn up the moment he knew I was alone. Knowing that Harry had very little trust in police officers. I learnt this when he and I were in the Bahamas together - he told me in confidence. I never questioned him on the matter. It wasn't until now that I realised I had learnt a lot about Harry, things you wouldn't know from meeting once, when we were in the Bahamas. Gaining more insight into his life just by the stories and pictures that Anne provided me with. Harry being a true blessing in my life, and I couldn't be happier with the way things are turning out. Harry once provided me with the best advice, not that I needed it or asked for it at the time, but I'm glad that he found the need to share it with me regardless. 

"I think there are two kinds of forgiveness, Ivyanna, the kind that when you forgive you're also giving them another chance, or the kind where you forgive but move on without them. Use them both wisely." I had heard Harry openly tell me. My head tilted back now, and I glanced up to catch sight of his beautiful green eyes staring straight at me and it was in this very moment that I knew the words he had spoken months ago were spoken from the heart. 

And I have never taken it for granted.


	25. My Only Angel

The smell of perfectly cooked bacon, eggs, tinned spaghetti, tomatoes and avocado on toast was not something that I thought I would have the pleasure of waking up to on a Saturday morning. Eager to slip out of bed, I rolled over, stretching my arms out above my head almost knocking the bouquet of purple tulips that had been set inside a vase filled with water. The small white note attached, with 'Ivyanna' written across it, caught my eyes right before I leaned down to smell the beautifully scented tulips. Knowing Harry was the culprit behind it. Still half asleep as I climbed out of bed I reached out then pulled on the very first clothing item that was within reach. Harry's white Rolling Stones shirt. 

"Good morning, birthday girl." I heard Harry comment as soon as I had entered the kitchen, being completely out of it due to my tiredness. "What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow up at me just as he took out two plates and began serving out the breakfast options he had spent his time working on. "Think I'd forget?" He questioned me. 

I knew that Harry wasn't the type to forget your birthday, but, I couldn't help but wonder how he found out in the first place. I've never mentioned my birthday. 

"Harry. What would you say if I were to tell you that it's not my birthday." I replied simply, pulling out and sitting down on the stool at the counter, keeping a straight face though each word I spoke. Having taken drama as a course it provided me with the ability to lie. Not that I ever used it often. 

"I'd say that you're lying." He responded. Taking no time to come up with an answer. It was as if he knew I'd bring that up. "Ivy." He chuckled softly just as he handed me the glass of orange juice that he had freshly poured. "Everybody knows your birthday is October 21st." 

This had me wondering what Harry were on about and how everyone could possibly know such thing, when I had always kept it quiet. No one at work was aware of my birthday; I never told them, and they never asked, it wasn't often that we would even celebrate a birthday for someone at work. Knowing that Harry wasn't the kind to give out any sort of information, I gave up, settling on eating the delicious breakfast that Harry had provided me with, I thanked him a few times, and he simply told me that I deserve it and that it was no problem, but that didn't stop me from thanking him further. 

Harry had left me wondering for a while, right up until the very moment that he got up to clean our plates, his back to me as he focused on cleaning each plate free of its mess then dried them before stacking them in the cupboard. 

"Harry." I demanded as I raised the glass to my lips to finish off the last of the orange juice. 

"Alright. Alright." He chuckled softly, wiping his hands dry on the tea towel, causing his glance to land on his shoes. "I was, uh, stalking your Instagram, and I kinda just found out." 

Was I hearing this correctly? Did Harry, of all people, really just admit to stalking me? 

"Look. Ivy. Surely people stalk me from time to time. So, it makes this socially acceptable." He began to explain, using this as an explanation to cover his ass, though I was yet to ask him why. “Jessica and Patrick would’ve stalked me, no doubt." He added with a laugh. "They’ve nothing better to do with their lives." He elaborated, not that I required elaboration. He was right though, as usual. 

"Why were you stalking me anyway?" I asked, tilting my head up to look up at him with an eyebrow raised. 

"You've never posted a photo of yourself." He replied simply. 

"I posted a photo with you." I pointed out. Having posted a photo that Harry and I took whilst scuba diving in the Bahamas. 

"Ivy. That doesn't count." He sighed in frustration - trying to prove his point. 

"Alright. I'll make you a deal. I'll post a selfie when you do." I confirmed. 

“Challenge accepted." He smirked. 

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help cracking a smile. Before I had the chance to respond beyond that, the colour drained from his face. 

“I forgot about your gifts." He gasped. 

I wondered if I’d heard him correctly. Presents, as in, more than one? No, I decided, surely not. Patrick hadn’t bothered to know when my birthday was in three years, let alone acknowledge it. There was absolutely no way Harry had made such an effort on my behalf; no one ever had before, especially after only knowing me such a short time. Harry let himself out of my house, then, and returned moments later, many giftbags in hand.

“Oh, my lord, Harry!” I exclaimed. “What have you done?” 

“This isn’t all from me, love." Harry reasoned, handing me one of the giftbags. “That’s from Mum." He explained. “She sends her love.” 

I sat on the couch now, in complete silence. Anne barely knew me, and she had sent Harry a gift to give me for my birthday. I was stunned by her kindness and generosity. 

“This one is from Gemma." He continued, handing me an unmarked envelope. “Open those before I give you part of your present from me." He encouraged me. 

Anne had sent me a new handbag and a matching wallet. When I opened the wallet, there was an appointment card in one of the card slots. The appointment card was for my hair dresser, who’d closed her books when she went on maternity leave; and had been booked out for months in advance since she returned to work, which meant my hair was in desperate need of attention after being neglected for almost nine months now since I didn’t trust anyone else to touch my precious hair. 

“How in the world did your mum know Elaine is my hairdresser?” I asked him. “She’s been impossible to get an appointment with for the better part of a year now." I added. 

“Elaine is mum’s best friend." Harry explained. “Mum mentioned to her that she and Gemma had met you and the rest was history.” I was too overwhelmed to speak. “You have regular six-weekly appointments for the next six months, as well." He added. 

Harry excused himself from the loungeroom then, heading for the kitchen. I wasn’t surprised when I heard the kettle being filled and boiled.

"Open Gemma’s!” He called excitedly. 

I did as he asked, carefully opening the envelope as Harry returned with the tea, handing me a mug. 

“It’s a voucher to a day spa in London." I told him. “Looks like she’s not picked any services for me, either.” I added thoughtfully. “She’s just given me an amount of money to spend on whatever I fancy, which is lovely.” 

Harry looked so pleased I was enjoying my gifts. His eyes were shining brightly as he sipped from his own mug of tea and pushed the last giftbag towards me expectantly. From the bag, I pulled a stunning charcoal coloured coat. It had wonderfully deep pockets and brilliant ornate buttons. 

“Oh, Harry,” was all I could manage to say. 

“I had the inside lined with fleece." He told me. 

With that, my emotions peaked, and I couldn’t help sobbing. I’d never received such thoughtful gifts in my life, let alone had a single person pay attention to me the way Harry, and apparently his family, had.

* 

We spent the rest of the day wandering around the zoo, and then Harry insisted on taking me out for dinner. We’d just finished our mains, and before I could decline our waiter’s offer of the dessert menu, Harry had asked which dessert the waiter’s favourite was, and when he heard it involved chocolate, he requested two of them, and a bottle of champagne. When we’d been left alone again, Harry slid a small giftbox across the table towards me. I opened it to reveal a beautiful white gold necklace, with a matching butterfly shaped pendant that opal throughout the wings. I looked over to thank Harry to find his seat opposite me had been left vacant. I felt his hand on my shoulder from behind me, and then he reached to take the chain from its box and fasten it into place on my neck. After resuming his seat, Harry reached across the table to take my hand in his own. 

“I know it’s your birthday, Ivyanna, love." Harry sounded as if he were nervous. “But I was rather hoping you might give me a gift tonight." He told me. 

"Whatever do you mean, Harry?” I asked, sipping from the glass of champagne the waiter had brought me. 

“Well." Harry looked flustered, and he was no longer meeting my eyes. “I was, uh, wondering if, maybe, you’d like to be my girlfriend?” 

“Of course, Harry,” I told him. 

A look of relief washed over his face, and then he composed himself. 

“I hope I’m not being too forward.” He sounded panicked. “If you’re not ready to move on from Patrick, I will wait until you’re ready.” 

“I wouldn’t have agreed the first time you asked if I weren’t ready to move on, Harry." I pointed out. 

He relaxed then and laughed.


	26. Sweet Creature

February 1st; Harry's birthday. That marks today's date, making him 25 years of age. Another year older, yet, still as handsome as ever. No matter how old Harry becomes I knew that he would always prove to be as handsome, if not more, each passing day. I found myself to be extremely thankful for Harry's presence in this world; more so today than ever. I could never express how grateful I am to Anne for having given birth to Harry and for raising him to be the incredible man he is; the job she has done is one I aim to achieve with my own children. Given the fact that Harry has proven to be a true blessing in my life in more ways than one, I aim to show him how much he means to me with my plans for today. 

As I rolled over in bed, my eyes caught sight of the curly haired brunette sound asleep beside me. He slept with an arm slung across my stomach; laying curled up on his side. Harry and I decided to move in together back in November. Just a while before Christmas. Harry found this to be the best solution, given the fact that we spent every night moving from one of our houses to the other. At times I still found myself getting lost amongst rooms, given how large Harry's – our - home is. I was careful in discarding his arm from my stomach and gently laying it down by his side before climbing out of bed, making sure not to make a sound as I opened the door and headed down the hallway, towards the kitchen. Harry had a habit of being able to sleep for ridiculous amounts of time. He could sleep for twelve hours straight without budging. With that I knew he wouldn't be up for a while, so I set out on creating breakfast for Harry and I. Breakfast in bed was only the start of my plan.

Harry hadn't moved an inch when I returned to our room, carrying the tray containing our plates of breakfast, setting it down on the bedside table before I had leaned down to press a firm kiss against his lips. "Happy birthday, baby." I whispered in a low mumble as my previous actions had unsettled him. "I made breakfast." I continued, giving him no time to make a response. 

"Not yet." He replied back in a light murmur, his voice still husky and thick with sleep. Harry's arms went to wrap around my waist, then he pulled me down into his chest. 

"I also made reservations to swim with dolphins," I revealed. This proved to be the motivation that Harry needed to rush to eat his food.

***

"I cannot believe we just did that!" Harry exclaimed several hours later as we walked back towards my car. He was grinning from ear to ear, and his smile lit up his eyes. "I've no idea how you managed to organise that, my love," he went on, "but I've wanted to swim with dolphins for as long as I can remember."

"I remember, H," I pointed out, rolling my eyes as he reached for my hand and took my car keys. "It's your birthday," I said sternly, "you are not driving." Ignoring my insistences, Harry ushered me round to the passenger side of my car and held the door open expectantly.

"Oh, but I think I am, love," he smirked. I sighed and gave in, sliding myself into the passenger seat of my own car. "So where to next?" Harry asked, closing the drivers' side door as he joined me and fastened his seatbelt.

"I wouldn't have to tell you if you let me drive," I laughed.

"If I let you drive, I wouldn't be a gentleman," he countered. I rolled my eyes and told him we could go wherever he wanted next; if I was allowed to pay for us both. He agreed to it, but, knowing Harry as I do, I knew that wouldn't be the case when it came time to pay for anything. Before starting the car, Harry reached for my hand to take it in his own, to bring it to his lips. "Thank you, my angel," he said simply. "This is the most thought anyone besides mum and Gemma has ever put into my birthday." Biting my lip, I waited for him to continue, as I knew he would. "I am so appreciative of all you do for me, & I truly consider your presence in my life my greatest blessing."

"Oh, Harry," I sighed.

"I love you, Miss Ivyanna," he told me. "I am the luckiest man alive to call you mine." The sincerity in his voice caused a lump to form in my throat.

"I love you, Styles," I told him. "Your love is the best thing that's ever happened to me."


	27. Everything Will Be Alright

March 10th. A year has gone by since Harry's birthday marking today as our court date. I say our as Harry was and is involved in the whole Patrick dilemma just as much as I had been. Had it not been for Harry, I wouldn't be where I am today. I would have gone through with the wedding which would have given Patrick as he wanted. Thankfully, with the kindness of Harry's heart - he told me what was going on and stood by my side through it all. I could never be more thankful. "Hey." I heard a gentle voice speak in a calming manner as strong hands slipped around my waist. Harry. "Are you okay, love?" He asked quietly, resting his head against my shoulder after he pressed a soft kiss on the top of my forehead. 

"Of course." I replied quietly, managing to turn around within his grip so that we were facing one another and slipped my arms up and around his neck. "Just thinking of how grateful I am for you. I would never be where I am today, in this position, had it not been for you." Harry didn't respond with much else other than a small I love you, instead he let his hand rub over the small of my back in a comforting manner. He knew how to make me feel better in the lowest of times. Harry encouraged me to have high hopes that everything would turn out in our favour. He even went above and beyond by seeking he best lawyer to stand for us in court, though, we still had to make an appearance and attend. I couldn't help still having some sort of uneasy feeling buried deep within my stomach. What if Patrick got away with it and didn't get the justice he rightfully deserves? That was my only doubt.

***

Attending a court house in these sorts of circumstances was never something I had imagined would happen to me. But, here I am; standing in front of the court house, beside the love of my life. Holding Harry's hand within mine, I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and in return he gave mine an encouraging squeeze.

Heading into the courthouse, we took our seats, getting back to our feet some time later when the judge entered. Returning to our seats when instructed to do so, I found myself zoning out. I vaguely remember the lawyer Harry had hired showing the courtroom the footage he'd shown at what should have been my wedding to Patrick, accompanied with the same set of photos he'd presented the guests with. There was a copy of the police report we'd filed the night Patrick showed up to my house uninvited and very drunk. Harry and I had both written statements to go with this that night as well. I hadn't realised until now just how much evidence we had against Patrick, and I was beginning to feel better about our chances. I didn't remember taking photos at the time when Patrick had destroyed my Nana's vase, but even they were presented to the judge and jury in support of our case as well.

Harry and I were both called to the stand, and each of us told the stories of how we'd met Patrick, and how he'd treated us. We told the truth, obviously, so our stories matched up. Patrick wasn't here to defend himself, I noticed, but Angela sat by Patrick's lawyer, head high and arms crossed in front of her. Once Harry and I had shared our stories, the judge excused us all for a brief recess, after which, he told us, Patrick would join the courtroom via a video stream from one of the local police station's interview rooms. Apparently, Patrick had been refused the opportunity to attend the hearing because he'd confessed to both his lawyer and psychologist that he would likely hurt both Harry and I if he was to see us. Both Patrick's lawyer and psychologist were legally and professionally obligated to report this in light of the court proceedings, and as such, relevant precautions had been put in place in the interest of my safety and Harry's.

Outside the courthouse, I turned to Harry. "What do we do about that threat?" I asked him. I'd began to shake, distressed by this whole experience for the first time. Harry handed his phone to me. It displayed our thread of text messages. He'd written a new one and not sent it. It read 'We moved, love; he has no idea where we live now, and no way of finding out, either. He doesn't even know the number plates to our cars any more either because I had them changed, too; remember?' I nodded, feeling relieved. Harry always had a plan. We were approached by the judge then who told me that if I'd prefer, I didn't have to sit in on Patrick's statement. 

"Go let yourself in the car, love;" Harry suggested gently. "I'll sit in on it," he assured me.

"I'll be calling another recess once Mr Collins' statement has been presented to the jury so that they can make their decision," the judge informed us. "That would give you ample time to collect miss Edwards, Mr Styles, and bring her back into the courtroom for the verdict." They both turned to face me then, waiting for me to make my decision. I reached for the car keys Harry had previously offered me. The judge offered a sympathetic smile and turned to walk away, leaving Harry and I alone again.

Harry walked me to his car and held me for a moment before opening the door. "This will all be over soon, love," he promised. He leaned into the car and gave me a quick kiss. His eyes travelled back to the courthouse and he noticed the crowd seemed to be abandoning their recess in favour of returning to the hearing. "I'll be back out for you as soon as I can," he assured me. I just nodded, and Harry took my hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze before he shut the door of his car and walked back to the courthouse.

I was only by myself for roughly twenty minutes before Harry tapped on the window by my head. Though I'd been expecting Harry to come collect me, of course; I couldn't help jumping in my seat as his return pulled me from my thoughts. I'd enjoyed the time alone, surprisingly; it had been just long enough to process my feelings and thoughts without being consumed by the panic that fluttered within my chest. "What did he have to say for himself?" I asked quietly as Harry helped me from the car.

"Pretty much exactly what you'd expect," he informed me. "Blamed the alcohol for his violence and his unfaithfulness, as if that absolves him of everything." I rolled my eyes as we headed back towards the courthouse. "None of the jury looked too impressed by that," he went on, "so I like our chances." I nodded, feeling reassured. The jury's deliberation was not a long one, and within fifteen minutes they'd declared Patrick guilty as charged. The judge agreed and sentenced him as he saw fit. There was a restraining order placed against him on our behalf, and he was placed under house arrest for two years.


	28. I'm Having Your Baby

September 22nd. This marked today's date. Six months after the court hearing. Harry and I have gotten our lives together on track since then and have been moving steadily towards our lifetime together. I knew that Harry had his heart set on creating a family with me, this was something I knew for sure, the very moment he arrived home with an eight-week-old pup. I can still recall the moment he emerged through our front door with the yellow Labrador retriever, wrapped up in a thick blanket, cradled safely in his arms. Spinee. That's what we’d called her. The adoration he holds for her is out of this world, and it was in the moment that he brought her home, I knew I too wanted to create a family with him. I can't wait to see with him cradling our children the way he does our sweet Spinee. 

From the double lines on the pregnancy test that I held securely within my hands, I knew that it would be a sight I would get to witness very soon - within the coming months. Harry was at work; so, I knew he wouldn't be waiting on me as I opened the door and walked out of the toilet. I hadn't responded to his texts for the last two hours. Having done four, now five, pregnancy tests just to be sure. I hadn't yet told Harry; he knew I hadn't had my periods for three months, but we weren't worried as my periods were irregular. I also knew that Harry would be over the moon full of excitement and that having a baby together is something we had discussed at great lengths. We both want children more than anything. My nerves just ran high as I found myself coming up with ways to tell him. I didn't just want to have him arrive home and tell him without some kind of romantic gesture. But. What? 

With little time left until Harry was due home I called the only person I knew I could trust. Gemma. I can't even begin to express how happy and excited she was when I asked her one simple question. The question being, 'Hey, Gem. How would you tell the one you love you're pregnant. Knowing full well that that alone would send them over the moon. But that alone is not nearly a good enough way to break such news to them considering they deserve everything in the world.' I didn't have to say that I had been referring towards Harry and I for her to know, she just knew. She knew everything and understood me in a way I know no other ever could. She always provided me with the best sort of advice even if she didn't give out ideas, I alone come up with them, of course with her encouragement. She always had a way of making me feel secure and had this way of letting me know that everything would be okay even if the words never left her mouth, I just knew. I had never felt more grateful to have her in my life than what I am right now. I had complete faith in the fact that she would be the greatest Aunty towards Harry and I's kids. I didn't remain on the phone to Gemma long, she wished me luck and assured me that no matter how I decided to tell him, that it would be perfect in any way. 

I decided that creating a meal for Harry and I tonight would be a start, at least. I had less than an hour before he would be due home, thankfully I had chosen to make tacos and they never seemed to take long. Tacos was a food option that Harry had once listed as a favourite. Knowing that this was something I knew he would be happy upon arriving home to, I still couldn't help but shake the nerves. So, I called Gemma again. 

"Hey, Ivy. Are you okay? Is he home yet? Have you told him?" She asked curiously, taking her time to ask each question and made sure that I was okay the whole time. 

"I'm okay just feeling nervous. No, not yet. He'll be home soon. I'm making tacos." I replied, coming out with my response all at once, Gemma understood what I had said, having set my phone on the counter then put her on loud speaker so that I could talk and cook at the same time. 

"Tacos? Really? Harry's favourite." She commented happily. "He's going to be so happy. Don't stress. He loves you. Everything's going to be okay." 

"I hope so." I commented lowly then paused when I heard the front door open, looking up to catch a glance of Harry kicking his shoes off in the doorway. "Hey, look, Gem, I'm gonna go. Harry's home. I'll talk to you later." 

"Alright, Ivy. Stressing is no good, okay? Everything will be fine. Love you. Call me when you can." She replied back as she proceeded to reassure me that everything would be okay. 

"Good evening, beautiful." Harry cooed lowly as he came up behind me slipping his arms around my waist as he pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Hey, is that Gemma? My sister?" He asked. Harry didn't mind that Gemma and I got on so well. In fact, he loved that two of the most important people in his life get on so well. 

"Bye, Harry." I could hear Gemma laugh softly through the phone. I couldn't see her, but I knew that she would be shaking her head at him. "Also. Congratulations, Harry. I'm so happy for you." 

Her last words left Harry confused. He didn't ask what she meant at first until he had let it sink in for a while, asking when he found that he was unable to come up with an explanation of his own. 

"Why did Gemma congratulate me and that she's proud of me?" Harry asked me, I was caught off guard by his question, but let no emotion show as I proceeded on serving dinner out amongst the two plates. "I haven't gained a new job? Gotten a new car? A new house? I'm confused. Do you know why she said it?" 

I knew exactly what she meant and what she had been getting at, but, this was not the way I planned on telling him. Sticking with the idea I had in mind I just shook my head. 

"No, Harry. I've no idea. Anyway. Dinner's ready and I'm hungry. Let's eat." I replied instantly, doing the best that I could to change the subject. 

We ate dinner exchanging stories of our day. Harry had started tutoring students to play guitar and sing, on top of his continuing efforts as a pub musician. He’d ended his contract with the pub he’d met Patrick in around the same time we’d gone on what would’ve been my honeymoon with Patrick, with good reason, obviously; but it hadn’t taken Harry long at all to find somewhere else to play. He’d taken to playing between the local coffeeshops in favour of playing in the pubs, just to ensure he’d not run into Patrick.

“Where’s Spinee?” Harry asked, realising he’d not seen her since he had come home. 

“I moved her bed into our room because I cleaned the hardwood floors this morning,” I explained. “Must’ve forgotten to bring it back out, she’s probably asleep.” 

Harry nodded, standing up to clear away our plates. He paused beside me and placed a kiss to the top of my head and thanking me for dinner. What Harry didn’t know is I knew exactly where Spinee was. I’d also washed her dog bed this morning, and she’d spent most of the day outside, confused because it was hanging on the clothesline. I’d shut the back door not long before Harry had come home, having put my plan into action, and not wanting Spinee to spoil it. 

“I’m going to check on Spin, darl,” I told him. He nodded, dancing around the kitchen as he packed our dishwasher. I walked into the laundry and opened the back door. Spinee came to me immediately, sitting quietly at my feet. I looked her over, and, breathing deeply, I whispered excitedly, “Where’s dad? Go get dad!’ Spinee yapped excitedly and headed straight for the kitchen. I slipped quietly out of the front door, my head spinning. 

“Ivy?” Harry called. “Ivyanna?!” I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady my breathing. The front door opened, and I forced myself into a chair that sat on the front porch. Harry crouched in front of me, slipping a hand gently through my hair. 

“Love, why is there a baby’s pacifier attached to Spin’s collar?” I bit my lip, still not daring to look at him. It was dark, so I couldn’t see Harry too well, but he was close enough I could see his eyes light up as realisation hit him. “Are we…?” He asked, cutting himself off. “Are you…?” He tried again. His hands were shaking slightly as he brushed away the tears now sliding down my face, despite his efforts to stay composed. All I could do was nod. Harry helped me up out of the seat carefully, pulling me into him. He wrapped his arms around me calmly, and I noticed he was crying now too. He took a deep breath and composed himself. “I love you,” he told me. “I love you, so much.” He took my hand and led me inside. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

We were sat on the couch now, Harry’s arm around me, and his free hand gently on my stomach. He kissed my temple repeatedly, smiling from ear to ear the whole time. Spinee jumped up beside me, curling up and placing her paw over Harry’s hand on my stomach.

A.N; IVY IS 3 MONTHS PREGNANT WHEN SHE FINDS OUT THAT THEY'RE EXPECTING!!


	29. She Sits Beside Me Like A Silhouette

November 9th. That brings us to today’s date. Fourteen months later. 

I ended up giving birth to twins; Alexander and Darcy, on March the 18th. They’re 8 months old now and I couldn’t believe how quickly that had gone by. I could never be happier with the way that my life had turned out. I was over the moon, full of joy and excitement that Harry and our twins had blessed me with. Everything was finally falling into place. Everything is perfect. 

As I rolled over in the bed Harry and I shared, a small yawn managed to break through my lips just as I reached up with my hands to rub slowly over my eyes. Most mornings I would wake to the twins sound asleep in bed with me. However, this morning was not one like those. I stumbled out of bed and reached out for the first available clothing item then pulled it up and over my head. Harry's white rolling stones shirt. His shirt stopped mid-thigh on me and knowing Harry would be the only one seeing me like this - I had no problem with walking around our home wearing only his shirt and my white lace underwear. Descending the staircase was a task that required very little time. 

"Harry?" I called out quietly after I had successfully reached the final step. 

"In here, love," Came his gentle voice from the direction of the living room. 

I made my way towards the living room and when I emerged through the archway, my eyes landing upon Harry with Alexander and Darcy cradled safely within the warmth of his strong arms. The corners of my lips curved up and into a warm bright smile as a gentle coo passed through my lips simply at the sight of Harry and our children. Harry took it upon himself to wake up early each weekend and attend to our children's every need. He had told me once before that this was the least he could do given I provide and care for them each day that he is away at work. 

"Thank you, baby," I spoke quietly, not wanting to wake our sleeping babies as I made my way over towards the three of them and carefully slipped my arms around Harry's waist as I leaned up on my tip toes to press a firm kiss against his lips. 

“Whatever for, love?” He wondered. 

“For waking up each weekend, on your only days off, allowing me to sleep as you nurture our babies," I continued, speaking each word in a low tone. 

“We have this conversation every weekend, Ivyanna,” he chuckled. “You don’t have to thank me – this is what a good father does,” he pointed out. “I wish I could help out with the children more,” he added, gently handing me Alexander, moving carefully so as not to wake him. 

“You do more than enough, Harry,” I assured him. 

“You gave me the greatest gift any man could ask for,” he insisted. “I should show you more appreciation; and I need to be here with you all a lot more than I am.” 

“If it weren’t for you working so hard to provide for us all, I’d have had to go back to work two months ago,” I reminded him. “You work tirelessly so that I can be home with them, and then you still have the strength and patience to come home and help with anything you can,” I went on. “I’m so grateful for you, H;” I sighed, “and the twins are so lucky to have you as their dad.” 

Harry shifted Darcy into his other arm, wrapping his free arm around me and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. 

“I love you more than you could ever imagine,” he mumbled into my hair. 

“And I you,” I replied, resting my head against Harry’s chest as I yawned again. Harry reached for Alexander and instructed me to sit down. Once I had done so he handed both twins to me. 

“I’ll be right back with a cup of tea, love,” he promised. I rolled my eyes as Harry turned and headed for the kitchen. It never ceased to amaze me that he was such a thoughtful, compassionate, genuine person, and even now, I wondered just how I’d managed to get this lucky.

*

Harry and I spent the evening at the park. After breakfast, he had suggested that we take the twins out for an evening stroll, knowing that he had planned for us to meet up with his mum, Anne, and his sister, Gemma, for lunch that afternoon. Harry picked out a small cafe-style restaurant in the heart of London - he found this to be the quietest restaurant for our children. With everything he did and every choice he made, he had our children and I in mind. Just the thought made my heart flutter. 

I sat beside Harry with the twins’ pram next to his side as Anne and Gemma sat across from us. Anne cradled Alexander securely in her arms as she rocked him back and forth in slow motions while Gemma sang lullabies in a light tone to Darcy - this was something the two of them did often. I knew that we made the right decision by making Gemma their godparent. 

"Aren't you just the spitting image of your daddy?" I could hear Anne speak softly in a gentle coo to Alex before she had lifted her head and glanced over at Harry. "He looks just like you," she commented. 

"Thank you. I like to think so too," Harry agreed, letting his head lean back against my shoulder, gently squeezing my knee with the hand he’d rested there as soon as we settled into our table. 

"I adore my weekly, sometimes even daily, visits with you," Gemma spoke this time, having finished off the lullaby she had been previously singing, gently tickling Darcy's tummy. "I just love to sing to you and receive your cuddles," She added. 

Everyone in Harry's family had been fond of Alexander and Darcy since the very moment the two were born, offering support and guidance in numerous ways. Harry and I accepted everyone’s support and appreciated that more than anything. I knew that Alexander and Darcy had been brought into the world surrounded by love, and appreciated by all. I knew that everyone within Harry's family and social network would always continue to support our family to the ends of the earth.


	30. Wherever I Go, You Bring Me Home

The twins are now 14 months old, both having spoken their first word months ago, about three weeks before they turned a year old. Alexander’s first word had been “Mama”, whilst Darcy's first word was “Dada”. Their development was progressing smoothly, with both Alexander and Darcy reaching new milestones each day. Both managed to grasp hold of small items now, like cutlery or their toothbrush; not that either one had mastered such things, of course, but they made progress each day. Between them, they also spoke a select few other words: “yes,” “no,” “hi,” “bye,” “go,” “stop” and “Gran,” to name a few. They hadn’t quite worked out how to say ‘Aunty’ or ‘Gemma’, yet, so they referred to Gemma as “Gee”, and Gemma had taken such a liking to it that Harry and I had started using it too. Darcy took her first step at nine months, with Alexander following behind and taking his first step two weeks later. They’re both at the stage now where they've learnt how to walk well. Somehow, I had formed a habit of thinking deeply about the twins whenever they were in the care of Anne and Gemma. I trust the two with all my heart and knew that neither would allow the twins to end up hurt. The peace and quiet was something that felt new to me - something I hadn't felt in a long time; though, I wasn't complaining. I love Alexander and Darcy more than anything. I would never change them for the world. 

Lost in my thoughts, I let out a low huff as the sound of my phone vibrating on the bedside table brought me back to reality. The flashing light indicated that I had an unread text. I pushed myself up out of the seat at my dressing table where I had been in the process of getting ready and strolled across to the bedside table to retrieve my phone. I unlocked it quickly, taking notice of the unknown number. The text message had come from a contact that I had not had saved within my phone. I read over the small message and was left confused by the words: 'Hey, beautiful. Wanna go out sometime?' 

This appeared unusual to me, and I couldn't pinpoint who would write such thing, especially given Harry and I changed our phone numbers each time we had encountered Patrick out and about within the community. Harry caught a glance of him at the grocery store three days ago and insisted on changing our numbers. I decided on replying to the unknown number, only so they would back off. I typed out my response then pressed send, glancing over the text I had written: 'I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend.' 

Satisfied with my statement, I locked my phone then went to set it down on my bedside table. I turned my back just as my phone vibrated and the screen lit up again. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes landed on the text that flashed across the screen: 'That's cool, but, I thought you might need a husband. Here's my number.' 

I chose to ignore the message, pushing the thought aside, to worry about after my date with Harry. I would discuss the matter with him tonight after our date. I wanted to be able to spend a night alone; just he and I, not worrying about anything else besides the two of us. We hadn't spent time together, alone, for quite some time and I was really looking forward to that. It wasn't until I sat back down on the small stool at the white dressing table, with trifold mirrors, that my eyes glanced over my shoulder and landed on the clock. 5:49pm. Harry was due home any minute, and it was only now that I found myself being thankful for the fact that I only had my hair left to worry about. Thanks to the gift I’d received from Anne on my birthday the year I’d met Harry, I’d recently had my hair cut and coloured, so all I had to do was style it now. The six months’ worth of appointments with Elaine that Anne had arranged as part of my present that year had been used by now, of course; but when Elaine realised I knew Anne and was dating Harry, she was only too happy to arrange six-weekly appointments for me for the foreseeable future. I’d pulled on a simple wine-coloured ruched dress that fell to just above my knee and paired it with a pair of black ankle boots with a wedged heel. I planned to finish my outfit with the charcoal coat Harry had given me for my birthday the first year he’d been part of my life and taught me that birthdays were worth celebrating and should be enjoyed. It was neatly folded at the end of our shared bed, and the necklace he’d given me that year still hung from my neck. I swept my hair into a bun and as I was sliding the last bobby-pin into place, I heard Harry letting himself in. Spinee greeted him at the door as usual, and I smiled as I reached for my favourite bottle of perfume, knowing it was Harry’s favourite on me too, frowning when I realised the bottle was almost empty. 

“You look stunning,” Harry commented. 

I jumped slightly, not having realised he’d reached our bedroom door at this point. I’d been just as nervous all day as I had been when Harry took me to meet Anne and Gemma for the first time all those years ago; and now that Harry was in front of me, complimenting me, my nerves increased a hundred times over. There was something strange in the air, there had been all day, almost a combination of humidity and electricity, despite the fact it was early fall now and there was no humidity in the air whatsoever. Harry had walked into our room now, and I’d been so caught up in my nerves that it took me a moment to realise he’d placed something on our bed, beside my coat. I raised my eyebrow at him and he mimicked me, offering me a hand. I took it and let him help me up, carefully walking over to the bed. A bouquet of red roses lay beside my coat, and beside them, a small giftbag. I picked it up and looked at him, confusion still evident on my face. 

“Open it, love,” he chuckled. I did as he asked, fishing from the bag not one, but two brand new bottles of my favourite perfume. 

“How on Earth…?” I wondered, cutting myself off as Harry wrapped his arms around my waist. 

“I noticed you were running out the other day, made a mental note to buy you some more on a lunch break,” he explained. “I didn’t get a chance to take a lunch break until today,” he added, almost apologetically. 

“You are too good to me, Styles,” I sighed. Harry laughed and stepped back from me slightly, taking my hand and guiding me into a spin. “But why?” I asked when I faced him once more. 

“Because I love you, and you deserve it,” he told me simply, as if that were the most obvious answer in the world. 

* 

We left half an hour later once Harry had showered and changed. Harry wouldn’t tell me where we were going, but after an hour’s drive, we stopped, having arrived at a very high-end restaurant in London. I was confused when Harry drove right up to the front of the establishment, but before I could ask the question, Harry had shut off the car and let himself out, so he could come around to the passenger door and hold it open for me. A young man in a white long-sleeved button up top, partially covered in a rich navy coloured vest approached us, and Harry handed him his car keys before leading me inside.

“Reservations for Styles,” he explained to the seating hostess when we reached her. 

She nodded curtly without saying anything to him, but he offered her a smile anyway as she led us to our table. We’d not long been seated before another young man in the same uniform as the valet introduced himself to us as Daniel and asked if we’d like anything to drink. Harry asked for a bottle of Champagne for us to share. Daniel disappeared and returned moments later, Champagne in hand. He poured Harry and I a glass each, before leaving again so we could look over the menus he’d brought us with our Champagne. Harry and I made small talk as we decided on our orders. It was nice to be able to have some time alone, but we both felt the absence of the twins, and something else was on Harry’s mind. I couldn’t place why, but he was only partly present. 

A few hours later, Harry and I had enjoyed a lovely three course meal. He asked for the cheque and I expected we’d be going to collect the twins when we left before going home. I was proven wrong when one of the valet staff retrieved Harry’s car and didn’t get out of it. Instead, Harry helped me into the back seat and joined me there. I wanted to ask what was going on, but Harry was even more distracted now than he had been in the restaurant, so I left him to his thoughts. When the car stopped again, we were at the base of the London Eye. 

“This has been closed for hours, H,” I pointed out. 

Harry lead me towards the gate anyway, and when we got close enough, I realised there was a single ride attendant sitting in a small booth that had been hidden from where the car had stopped. The ride operator waved to us, and Harry waved back. I offered the stranger a small, confused smile as he left the booth and approached us. I zoned out for a while, and when I came back to reality, the carriage we were in was now stopped at the top of the Ferris wheel. I stood in the middle of the carriage, and at some point, Harry had moved to the side of it. He was leaning over a guard rail, looking out over the city. I approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him or distract him. 

“Incredible, isn’t it?” I asked, truly in awe as I watched London sprawl beneath us. Harry cleared his throat and turned to me. 

“Not as incredible as you,” he answered. 

He bit his lip then, a nervous habit he’d picked up from me, and he couldn’t quite meet my eye. He breathed deeply, clearing his throat again before he found the nerve to meet my gaze. He took my hand in his and squeezed it, breathing deeply again. He reached up with his free hand and ran in through his hair. Interestingly enough, this was a nervous habit I’d adopted from him. 

“You know how much I love you, don’t you, Ivyanna?” He asked.

“Of course, Harry,” I said, wondering why he’d ask such a thing. Before I could respond beyond that, Harry squeezed my hand again, smiling to himself. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this the moment I made you mine,” he began slowly. “Earlier than that, even,” he admitted, “but of course that wasn’t appropriate.” I bit my lip now, Harry’s nerves rubbing off on me. “Normally I’m not the type to approach a relationship in the way ours unfolded,” he confessed; “but ever since we met, I have been completely infatuated with you beyond all measure of anything I’ve ever known.” He laced our fingers together, swinging them between us. “You’ve already given me the greatest gift a man can ever hope for from a woman in our wonderful children, Ivyanna,” the sincerity with which Harry was speaking left me speechless. “I was hoping I might, albeit somewhat selfishly, trouble you for one more gift so I might do the right thing by you, the way you deserve.” He dropped to one knee then, and my mouth dropped. “Will you marry me, Miss Ivyanna Edwards?” He asked. 

I nodded, unable to speak. Harry got to his feet, chuckling as he did so as he brushed gently at the tears that were staining my face. He slid a beautiful diamond ring onto my hand and pulled me in close to him. We stood in the middle of the carriage holding each other as Harry swayed us back and forth lightly. 

“I love you, Ivyanna,” he told me. 

“I love you, Harry,” I replied.


	31. Epilogue

Ivy would be lying if she were to tell you that she felt no nerves at all. If you had cared enough to ask, she might even have explained that the nerves she felt were the good kind. Everything with Harry was always good. 

"Ivy?" The bride heard Gemma speak softly causing her to glance over her shoulder and towards the doorway, where Gemma, Harry's older sister, stood with an unfamiliar man standing before her with a boquet of flowers. 

This caught Ivy’s attention. Who would be sending her flowers at a time like this? Especially on her wedding day. 

"Alright, I'll be there in just a moment," Ivy promised them; even going to the effort of sending a warm smile in their direction. 

Her attention had returned to the large white mirror dressing table, and she caught sight of her reflection. She had selected a dress which wasn’t something she ever imagined she’d be comfortable wearing; but she supposed that all had to do with how Harry treated her and made her feel. It was a trumpet style mermaid off-the-shoulder dress with a court train. It was made from gorgeous flowing chiffon and delicate white lace; and featured beading and sequin details. A concealed zipper ran up the back of the stunning dress, which also contained a built in bra. She looked over and admired her appearance once more before she spun carefully on her heels and made her way over towards the door, stopping by Gemma's side as she accepted the flowers and thanked the delivery man. The smell of fresh flowers filled the space as the only door out of the room had been closed behind the unexpected guest. Ivy couldn't help but smile at the fact that she had received her favourite type of flowers on her wedding day - a pure blessing. 

It was the note that caught her eye more than anything. She reached out to retrieve the card that had been tied in place around the flowers, and flipped it open, allowing her eyes to glance over the words: 'Hey, beautiful. Can't wait to see you, I thought you might need a husband, and some flowers.' 

Harry. The only person who would send Ivy flowers. Had Harry not told her that he were the one who sent her those texts the day they got engaged exactly two years ago today - this would have been the perfect puzzle piece. 

Ivy was pulled from her thoughts as she felt a hand rest on her exposed shoulder. It had slipped her mind she was standing so close to Gemma, and when Ivy realised her soon to be sister-in-law had attempted to get her attention, she relaxed. 

“Mum’s on her way down to see you, love;” she explained. 

Ivy smiled and nodded, a lump forming in her throat at the thought of actually having a mother figure to attend her wedding. God only knows what a mess Angela had caused when Ivy and Patrick were to be wed what felt like a lifetime ago now. 

“I’ll go make sure Harry has the children ready, shall I?” Gemma suggested as Anne let herself into the room. 

“That would be really helpful,” Ivy admitted. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” In answer to Ivy’s question, Gemma walked towards the door, reaching for its handle and pausing to look back at Ivy. 

“No crying!” She instructed. 

“Go on, Gemma,” Anne chuckled. “I dare say Harry will need your help getting ready more than the twins,” she added. 

Ivy breathed deeply as the door shut behind Gemma. In just half an hour, she’d be walking down the aisle towards the love of her life. And still, despite her best efforts to ignore them, Ivy’s nerves were getting the better of her now. 

“Ivy, love,” Anne said gently. “Are you okay?” Ivy nodded, smiling at the older woman. 

“Just a little more affected by my past today than I was expecting to be,” she sighed, finally admitting out loud the issues she’d been doing her best to sort through for the last week. “I so didn’t want today to be like this,” she went on. “Today was just meant to be about Harry and I and our wonderful life together.” 

“It still is about all those things, love,” Anne pointed out. “You don’t have to feel guilty for feeling like this,” she added. “Harry’s been expecting these feelings to show themselves since he proposed,” she informed Ivy. “His priority is that you know he loves you more than life itself, and these feelings are totally valid considering your experiences.” 

Ivy bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying. Of course Harry was prepared for this, and of course he knew the right thing to say to put her mind at ease. 

“None of this detracts from how much he adores you, Ivy,” Anne promised. Ivy nodded, a small smile making its way onto her face. “You look stunning,” Anne added. 

“Thank you,” Ivy said suddenly. “For everything,” she added. “You gave me the family I never had. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that I finally get to become a Styles.” 

Anne pulled Ivy into a hug, pulling away eventually and reaching up to re-pin a few strands of Ivy’s hair into place, smiling in the way that only a mother could. 

“You’ve been a Styles from the moment we met you, dear,” Anne said kindly. She spotted Ivy’s veil laid out on the bed, then, and crossed the room to pick it up carefully. 

Ivy followed her wordlessly and sat on the edge of the bed. Anne gently put the veil into place, and let it fall softly over Ivy’s face. 

*** 

Ivy stood in a small room off the chapel she and Harry selected for the ceremony, waiting for her cue. She was pulled back to reality as one of the doors off this room and into the chapel opened just enough for Gemma to join her. 

“Everyone’s in place!” She informed Ivy excitedly. “Harry and the twins included,” she added. 

“Everything has gone off without a hitch.” Ivy’s entrance music started, and Gemma moved behind her to pick up her train so it wouldn’t get damaged. “Are you ready?” Gemma asked her as their cue to enter approached. 

Ivy nodded, finally consumed by the excitement of the day as their doors to the chapel opened. Ivy’s trip down the aisle went exactly to plan, and when Ivy reached the alter and joined Harry, he took her hand in one of his, and used his free hand to wipe at his eyes. 

“You look immaculate,” he told her quietly. 

Ivy couldn’t help blushing and she knew Harry had noticed even under all the makeup she had on when he chuckled silently beside her. The celebrant opened the ceremony, and before Ivy knew it, she was turning to face Harry, who lifted a slightly shaking hand to lift back her veil. Ivy was touched by how emotional Harry was today. 

‘Mr Styles and Miss Edwards have written their own vows for this occasion,” the celebrant informed their small congregation. “I’d now like to invite Mr Styles to say the vow he prepared.” 

Harry cleared his throat and took Ivy’s free hand in his own, looking into her eyes deeply. 

“My sweet, sweet Ivyanna,” he began; “I treasure nothing more in life than I do you. The love I have for you is only equalled by that which I have for our wonderful twins. I never thought it was possible to love someone else as fiercely and to the extent that I do you, until we met. I truly adore you and I’m so excited to continue our life together as Mr and Mrs Styles. I cannot thank you enough for all you contribute to my life, and I’m grateful beyond measure yours is the face I get to wake up to each day. You continue inspiring me to be my best self every day. Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. I promise to love you in sickness and in health; and in times of prosperity and in times of hardship. I swear to love you to the best of my abilities however you need to be loved for the rest of our lives.” Ivy was crying by the end of Harry’s speech, and so was he. 

The celebrant cleared their throat then. 

“Do you, Harry Edward Styles, take Ivyanna Grace-Lynn Edwards to be your lawful and wedded wife?” They asked. 

“I do,” Harry agreed, his smile so bright and genuine his eyes lit up like stars. 

“Miss Edwards, I’d now like to invite you to say the vow you prepared,” the celebrant announced. 

Ivy breathed deeply, squeezing Harry’s hand gently to calm herself as she gazed lovingly into his beautiful green eyes. 

“My dearest Harry,” she began. “You know, even sometimes better than I do, that I have lived a life full of many an unfortunate circumstance; and despite how broken I was when we met, you continued, and continue each day to love me unconditionally in the most remarkable way. I have no family for you to join today as I will join yours, aside from the one we created together. I know my parents are here with us though, and they would be so thrilled to know I found such an incredible man in you. They would have loved you, and our children, as I do. I truly believe in this life we are only given misfortunes which we can handle, challenge and change us though they will; and that we are not given good karma we do not truly deserve. Every unfortunate circumstance I endured in life prior to meeting you, both led me to you, and made me worthy of you and the unbridled love you give me. Aside from our darling twins, you are my greatest gift in life, and there are no words for how much I appreciate and adore you. Thank you for showing me what love is, and how wonderful life is when you find the right person to share yours with. Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. I promise to love you in sickness and in health; and in times of prosperity and in times of hardship. I swear to love you to the best of my abilities however you need to be loved for the rest of our lives.” 

“Do you, Ivyanna Grace-Lynn Edwards, take Harry Edward Styles to be your lawful and wedded husband? The celebrant asked. 

“I do,” Ivy agreed, tears brimming in her eyes again and blurring her vision as she smiled so widely her face hurt. 

“By the power vested in me by this church, I now pronounce you man and wife in the eyes of God,” the celebrant declared. 

“You may now kiss the bride,” they added. Harry stepped towards Ivy on the alter and wrapped his arms around her. Ivy draped her arms over Harry’s chest and laced her fingers into his hair. 

“I’m so lucky to love you, Mrs Styles," Harry said quietly, smirking as he addressed Ivy by her new name for the first time. “It suits you,” he added brightly as he pulled her in close to him and kissed her deeply, dipping her in the process and taking everyone, Ivy included, by surprise. 

“Not as lucky as I am to love you, Styles,” Ivy laughed as Harry stood her upright again. 

“That’s Mr Styles to you, thank you very much!” Harry teased. 

Ivy rolled her eyes as she and her now husband walked back down the aisle together to the cheers of their small congregation, out of the church and into the waiting limousine which would take them to their reception venue, where they would be able to properly mingle with their guests and thank them for their congratulations.


End file.
